Mysterious Thing, Time
by Blueowl
Summary: The future is lost, so to save it, both Harry and Dumbledore go back the moment it all began - that Halloween night. Of course, things do not go exactly as they had expected. Unspeakables, Wild Magic, Time Travel, Vampires, Bonds, Goblins.
1. Old Chap

**Mysterious Thing, Time**

Co-Authored By: Blueowl and Throckmorton

Disclaimer: We obviously don't own the idea of Harry Potter or any of the money making forms of it.

Summary: The future is lost, so to save it, both Harry and Dumbledore go back the moment it all began - that Halloween night. Of course, things do not go exactly as they had expected. Unspeakables, Wild Magic, Time Travel, Vampires, Bonds, Goblins.

**Part 1: Old Chap**

"Hello, old chap," Dumbledore began.

He settled in for a long discussion, as much as one could settle in when in a mind not one's own. Well, not one's current own. He mused over this while watching the other Albus Dumbledore. The mind was, of course, familiar, but it had been a long time since it had felt like this. A very long time.

It was much more cluttered. Dumbledore had to remind himself that this was before the war devastated everything, before he learned to lock away the pain and hopelessness that was the war of the "future." The clutter was, of course, important, but something that Dumbledore had had to learn to do without because of the dire circumstances of the war. He had to focus on the most vital things. To do otherwise would cost lives.

Regrettably, lives were lost anyway...but that was why they had come back, to prevent the loss of generations and to form a good and prosperous future—not to mention a livable one.

But back to the task at hand. His younger self was sitting in front of him, waiting patiently for an explanation.

"I apologize for rushing in, but time was of the essence," Dumbledore continued. "I am afraid that leaving things to fall as they would without interference lead to our defeat."

He brought up a memory, the one where he began to realize his efforts were fruitless. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, and the one Dumbledore believed could save the world, was 23. Harry had gone against Voldemort yet again, and Dumbledore was beginning to wonder when the stalemate would end.

_Dumbledore was not idle. He fought off death eaters so that Harry could face Voldemort and only Voldemort. He had killed or incapacitated many, but they kept coming. Spells were flying everywhere, and occasionally, a friendly spell would brush by him. It was chaos, but Dumbledore and what remained of the Order of the Phoenix fought anyway, hoping to give Harry even one more moment to face Voldemort. Filius fought like the dueler he was, slowed little by time or age. The Weasley twins, a fine pair of lads, fought back to back, dealing nasty curses never seen before to the death eaters. They had begun taking everything much more seriously after their youngest brother died trying to fight Voldemort himself. Minerva fought two at once, barely staying ahead of them. He could not help her, since he was facing three of his own. _

_Suddenly, Harry went flying past and slammed into a death eater. One of the twins finished of the death eater in his moment of distraction and another ran to pick up Harry. Dumbledore could tell by the boy's limp body that this fight would not be Voldemort's last. _

_"Retreat!" Dumbledore yelled. People disapparated or activated their portkeys. The twin holding Harry went down as the death eater who killed him picked up Harry's body. He saw Minerva fighting to get to Harry while Filius took on the enemy that had been fighting her. Dumbledore dispatched one of the death eaters he was fighting as he also ran for Harry. Minerva blasted the death eater who was carrying the boy, but was caught by a curse from someone behind her. Dumbledore felt his eyes misting as he was forced to choose between Harry and Minerva._

_It was never supposed to come to this. Harry was supposed to face Voldemort, yes, but not this way. There should have been the full support of the Order, as well as the Ministry, but the ministry had fallen before Harry was out of Hogwarts, and the Order had taken too many hits to stand strong. This was their last desperate attempt. He shook his head. Now was not the time for remembering what they could not change; now was time for action._

_Minerva was his best friend, he deputy, his right hand man, so to speak, but Harry was the savior of the world. It was beyond the wizarding world now, and Dumbledore knew that. Harry would save everyone, both wizard and muggle. _

_Even though he knew this, the desire to save Minerva outweighed anything else for the moment. He turned to her. The healers could save her if he got her to them fast. He reached out to her._

_"Save him, Albus," her voice, already weak, whispered to him. She drew her hand back so he could not touch her. "It all depends on him."_

_Dumbledore looked up. He saw no one from the Order remaining on the battlefield. He was the only one. But perhaps. . . ._

_"I will take you both," Dumbledore whispered._

_"No!" Minerva answered, her light voice only a shadow of the one that had students cringing in the halls when Hogwarts still housed students. "For me, Albus."_

_He would do anything for her, even if it meant ripping out his heart. And that was what she was asking._

_He bent over her and kissed her lightly on the forehead. "For you, my dear."_

_He stood and ran to Harry, pushing everything else out of his mind._

_"What do you think you're doing, you old coot?" The voice sent chills down Dumbledore's spine, but he would not let this, this, monster win today. _

_Dumbledore raised his wand. "Stopping you."_

_"You fool! You know only Harry can kill me," Voldemort laughed. "Good-bye old man."_

_Dumbledore raised earth in front of him to block the green light Voldemort had sent. With the next swish, he converted the ground under Voldemort into thick, sticky mud. He reached out to Harry and grabbed the boy's wrist. With a jerk and a twist, he was back to their healer's tent, the boy in his arms, St. Mungo's having been destroyed nearly two years before. A grave looking Neville Longbottom pointed to one of four cots in the room and Dumbledore laid Harry down._

_He knew Harry must have inflicted wounds on Voldemort, but all he could see were Harry's. Had they been muggles, Harry would probably never walk again. As it was, if Neville was as good as he had been in the past, Harry would have a painful limp and even more painful memories._

Pulling out of the memory, Dumbledore was once again staring at the younger, now shocked version of his consciousness that he would mentally refer to as 'Albus'. "Now you see why I had to take over for a time," Dumbledore said before the younger him could say anything. "I, we, cannot let that happen again."

"What happened to Minerva?" Albus asked after a pause.

Dumbledore sighed. He knew he would want to know that, but he had avoided thinking of her for so long. At least during the day. The nightmares were another thing entirely.

"We stayed in a small place in the London slums that was protected by the fidelus charm," Dumbledore began. "He delivered her body just outside the line."

Unbidden, the memory came flooding in.

_He almost didn't recognize the body when it was found, barely a week after the failed battle. Blood spattered and bruised, it was a symbol to Voldemort's cruelty. When he had realized it was Minerva, he had run to her and unpinned her from the stone wall of the building next to them. He held her bloody head with his hands and cried._

_He had not yet allowed himself to cry over leaving her behind. _

_He felt hands on his back, comforting yet pulling him away. Clutching her broken body to him, Dumbledore stood. He gasped as he finally saw the entire wall. Just above where Minerva's body had been were words written in red. Blood, her blood._

_"TOO SLOW, OLD CODGER."_

He pulled out of the memory to see Albus looking haggard. "After that, Harry and I decided something drastic had to be done, something that would give us the advantage while robbing Voldemort of his."

"And what was that?" Albus asked after a pause.

"Time travel," Dumbledore answered.

Albus nodded. "Yes, that would explain your presence. I had ruled out the possibility that you were false during the fight."

"I am thankful you had. When Harry and I began planning everything, we were uneasy about what my past self — you — would do. I am glad it all has worked out as well as it has, despite the changes that have occurred," Dumbledore said.

"What were the plans you made? How long did you and Harry prepare?"

"We prepared for several years, and also cast an ancient spell on one another, granting an empathic link between us. It greatly assisted us in battle, and I am sure it will help us here, especially since he is currently an infant. Granted, it isn't telepathy, but that is frankly not possible and would be rather draining — though I believe feeling each other's emotions provides more than enough communication," Dumbledore said. "As for other plans, right now I don't think we will be carrying them out immediately, since we have already caused enough change to the timeline and have both been injured."

Albus nodded, absorbing everything as well as ever before he folded his hands in his lap and leaned forward, a hungry twinkle in his eyes that Dumbledore had not seen in years. "So, how did you do it? Travel through time, that is."

"We anchored the time jump to Harry's horcrux, arranging the spell to bring our memories and our magic back into our past bodies a few moments before it was created," Dumbledore said. "That way the magic from traveling through time could dissipate enough not to conflict with the killing curse that would remove the future horcrux from Harry and place this time's horcrux within him," Dumbledore explained.

Albus blinked, almost choking on a nonexistent lemon drop. "The boy has a horcrux within him?!"

"I will share the rest of this knowledge and more if you will allow your consciousness to merge with mine," Dumbledore answered. "Separate, we will always be questioning each other, explaining decisions that should be made immediately. We will constantly be fighting for control, and it will hamper us." He smiled for the first time in what seemed ages. "After all, we are the same person."

The younger Dumbledore nodded, seeing the truth. "After this, we will be one entity, with two entire sets of memories, correct?"

The older man nodded. "Possibly, although since our memories up to your point are the same, those will probably just become stronger for a time rather than creating two separate sets of memories. Unfortunately, Harry and I had never heard of anyone attempting this. I am concerned about the loss of some memories or magic that I brought from the future."

The younger Albus took a moment to think about this. "From what you say, it seems important that we do merge, otherwise your coming back will be rather useless."

"That is what I was hoping you would say," Dumbledore responded.

"So, how do we do this?" Albus asked. "I must admit that I'm at a bit of a loss."

"Perhaps if we reach out to each other..." Dumbledore trailed off as he stood and went toward the younger version.

The younger version also stood and went forward until they were mere inches apart. Dumbledore raised his hand as the younger one raised his. Their hands touched.

Nothing happened.

After a few moments, the younger Albus broke the silence. "I believe you are too solid."

"That would make you too solid as well." Dumbledore lowered his hand. "Perhaps a different method, then."

"Some sort of spell, perhaps?" Albus suggested. His eyes once again held a twinkle. Puzzles delighted him.

"I was sure that would work," the older man said quietly. "I cannot believe Harry and I did not think of this problem. All of our concentration was on how to get here."

The Dumbledores stood facing each other, each lost in their own thoughts.

The older Dumbledore was stumped. He could nearly see them merging, but how to go about it? They had to be one if this was to work at all. As he imagined, he noticed his hand fading. Startled, he lifted his hand to examine it closer. His hand was solid again. Interesting.

What did this mean? He had done nothing, and from the looks of it, neither had the younger man. He followed his train of thought again, this time watching his hands. When he thought of merging, saw it in his mind, his hand disappeared again.

He looked at the other Albus. "I think I have it, old chap." The younger man faced him with raised eyebrows. "Imagine us merging."

"Very well," the younger man said with a look that said he was humoring the old man. He smiled and crossed his arms. He began to fade, and Dumbledore similarly imagined them merging. He suddenly felt lighter, and the other Dumbledore was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

Authors' note: This story may seem impossible to decipher initially, but stick with it. A great deal of things will be explained in coming parts.


	2. Stepping Back

Disclaimer: Really? We don't own this? Are you sure? Darn, must have been a dream then.

**Part 2: Stepping Back**

_Ariana, such a beautiful young girl. The fear that drove away her mind. Such power, her power, uncontrollable power. A life wasted._

_Befriending a young man with huge dreams. Watching those dreams turn to nightmares. Snuffing out the life of the man who followed those nightmares._

_Meeting a new bright young man, this one a pupil. Refusing to make the same mistakes. Seeing this young man turn even worse. Losing friends and family, one by one, to the new dark lord._

_More scenes, both pivotal and trivial, passed through the merged Dumbledore's mind. The memories were strong, reinforced by the fact that both versions of himself had experienced them. The latest memory experienced by the "younger" Albus replayed in "their" mind...._

"We must take disciplinary action," Minerva said. "These lies of hers must be stopped!"

"Now, now, Minerva," Dumbledore answered. "If we silenced every student who spread a lie, we would have a school full of mimes."

"Of what?" Minerva asked.

"Mimes, muggle actors who use only hand gestures," Dumbledore said contentedly as he sipped his tea.

Minerva shook her head and got back to the point. "Miss Skeeter's lies are malicious, Albus, and she tells them to all the people who will believe and spread them. What kind of a woman will she become if she doesn't learn that these lies hurt everyone? Think of all the hurt she could do if she was in the employ of the ministry and spreading those kinds of lies. She is nearing graduation, Albus, and who knows what she could do if she gains the position she wants?"

_That's different, the observing merged Dumbledore thought. Minerva had not had time to say all of that before the alarms went off the first time. He was suddenly struck with what that meant. He and Harry had changed something when they had stepped back in time, which somehow resulted in Minerva having a moment longer to think about one particular thing. Such as the actions of a student and how they needed to respond._

_It must have been this change that gave Voldemort a moment longer to think over his method of killing the Potters'. He refocused on the memory._

A jolt of magic. Albus, who had been enjoying a ranting Minerva, suddenly felt a stronger presence inside his mind. He was about to shout in alarm when he recognized the presence. It was himself.

The next thing he knew, the other Dumbledore had taken over and stood, Minerva still waiting for a response to her tirade.

Dumbledore pushed down the desire to take her into his arms and never let her go, but he chose to keep the promise he had made to her. Once he brought Harry to Hogwarts, he could hold Minerva as long as he wanted.

He began rummaging over the top of the desk, ignoring Minerva's confused and worried face as his bag of lemon drops fell from the edge and scattered all over the floor.

"I must go—emergency. Send help to the Potters," he said breathlessly as he grabbed a crooked quill and disappeared, portkeying away and leaving an astonished Minerva.

_The observing Dumbledore was glad he had been paranoid and told Minerva to send help, just in case. Years of facing the unexpected in war had ingrained an attitude of caution and preparation in him. Why face something that was most likely a known and have it backfire, when a simple command could prevent it?_

O o O o O

Dumbledore came to an abrupt landing in a simple carpeted hallway. It was eerily quiet and an odd scent drifted down the hall from the back bedroom. Glancing to his right, his eyes trailed down the banister and stairs to come to rest on a motionless form at the bottom.

James Potter.

Tearing his eyes away after conjuring a sheet to fall over the body, he refocused his attention on his main purpose and went down the hall to enter the last bedroom. He quickly found what he had expected.

The room that had once been neat, clean, and joyfully inhabited, set with toys and a sturdy crib with four solid walls and a window, was now an obliterated space with no redeemable items within—its walls more than unstable and the window blasted out.

There was a pile of dark, empty robes before the now fallen crib, the portions of wall nearest blackened and severely damaged. Dumbledore quickly noticed a wand on top of the black cloth. He slowly bent down and picked it up, firmly placing it within his robes, deciding it best to dispose of it later in a safe place.

"A'bus."

Dumbledore turned, finding who he had been looking for. Baby Harry was sitting up, resting his small hand over his mother's eyes, no doubt recently having lovingly closed them.

Harry raised his arms to be picked up, tired and sad, his eyes more of an old war-torn veteran's than an infant's.

"I'm here," Dumbledore said, scooping him up and wrapping his left arm around him while resting him above his hip. Harry wrapped his small arms around him and placed his head on Dumbledore's shoulder as the man silently conjured a sheet and draped it over Lily.

With a sigh, Dumbledore gave Harry a brief hug, but before he could retrieve his portkey to leave, he felt magic ripple over the whole house.

An anti-portkey ward. Due to the other wards, apparation was already out of the question.

Mentally swearing, Dumbledore pulled out his wand, slightly confused and vastly concerned about what was happening. This had not happened before!

He turned his eyes to the window and looked out.

"Good Merlin . . ." he breathed. Harry turned his head to look out as well, only for Dumbledore to whip around and dive out into the hall with him as a streak of yellow shot through the broken window.

"Stay as close as you can to me. The house is surrounded by Death Eaters," Dumbledore stated bluntly to Harry who immediately leaned more toward him.

Curses and shouts filled the air, Harry and Dumbledore only able to make out the loudest of them.

"It's Dumbledore!"

_"Bombarda!"_

"The Dark Lord told us to kill anyone who tried to leave!"

"Maybe he's hurt?"

"Together!"

_"Diffindo!"_

Dumbledore raised his wand, casting a quick anti-fire charm to the whole house. Wouldn't do to be burned alive.

Going down the stairs, he quickly came to a strong resistance of several daring Death Eaters. His robes whirled around him and his magic ruthlessly raged around his entire frame as he forced them back, quickly coming to the entry after passing James' covered remains.

He didn't know how many were around the house, and there was no time to question why, so Dumbledore continued fighting. He forced his way through the front door, hoping to somehow make it beyond the wards to apparate out with Harry.

He had made it a few paces out the door when he was forced to dodge a rather nasty, fatal curse by taking a brutal one instead, but he underestimated the force of it. He felt the curse flow across his leg as it slammed him back into the house, which knocked his grip of Harry loose. They both fell, Harry landing hard on the dark grass in front of Dumbledore after they literally bounced off the brick home.

Dumbledore landed on his left side, quickly raising himself up with his left arm as he felt a ripple of pain surge up and down his leg.

"Harry!" Dumbledore shouted.

Harry, on his hands and knees, infant instincts in control at the moment, fell flat, avoiding a hex as two more came at him.

With his wand hand, Dumbledore cursed a target to his far left as he thrust his empty left hand towards Harry, willing his magic to do something to help. Like summon Harry to himself.

He got the next best thing.

He felt something snap into his hand so hard it stung. For a split second, he thought a stinging hex had got him, but then he felt a surge of foreign power.

Voldemort's wand.

Not about to question such a fortunate event, he began wielding both wands, bringing forth a stream of curses from both.

"Come to me, Harry!" Dumbledore shouted, never having thought a few feet would feel so far.

Harry turned, staying low, his little hands gripping a few dozen blades of grass.

The front yard was a warzone, Death Eaters swarming throughout, the lawn littered with craters and overturned earth due to missed hexes and curses.

Still blocking curses with his wand and releasing curses with the other, Dumbledore wondered if this was the end for them both when several cracks filled the air.

"It's the Aurors!" a Death Eater shouted.

"Kill Dumbledore and the brat!" another shouted.

The following curses were foreseeable, though it didn't make them any less daunting.

Twelve cries of "_Avada Kedavra_!" rocked the air, and streaks of green ripped forth.

Dumbledore yanked his left hand toward himself, silently casting accio on Harry with the wand that had been used to try to kill him minutes before. An instant later, he caught Harry and pulled him to his chest as he slashed his own wand around them, putting as much power as he could behind it. A huge wall of earth shot up, forming a curved shield from his left to just the start of his right.

Several rays of green struck the hard earth, missing their intended targets, but Dumbledore's wall had not been wide enough.

He turned to the right, seeing the familiar green light racing toward them and certain their deaths were near, but then he felt Harry stiffen and a feeling ripple from his little body that clearly roared, "We have not come back just to die here!"

He saw Harry's right chunky baby hand lash out and could only stare as a killing curse that had barely grazed the wall slammed into his little moving palm. Harry continued to sweep his hand toward the house to their left, taking on two more green bolts before a stronger sort of magic pummeled the air.

Furious, raging, unrelenting power — merciless, yet merciful. A wrath resembling that of a vengeful parent's, but also of something more.

A cone of brilliant green erupted out in a blinding flash, and in the next blink, Dumbledore, as well as Harry and all present, saw all of the Death Eaters in the path of the green storm _drop_.

"Good Merlin!" an Auror shrieked. He had been inches away from the edge of the cone and watched as the Death Eater directly before him collapsed into a lifeless heap.

"Stay back, Hopkins! Didn't I tell you?!" Alastor shouted at him.

The surviving Death Eaters abandoned the battle as fast as they could after their comrades' inexplicable demise. The next few seconds became a blur of running Death Eaters, apparating cracks, and cursing aurors.

Dumbledore turned from the chaos and wrapped his arms around Harry as it all clearly became too much for Harry's current body, mind of a twenty-five-year-old or not.

The cry of an infant was now what rippled through the air, but it was like no cry they had ever heard before. It was one of pain and anguish, of thick despair and sadness. It was almost inhuman, but its human tone was what made it almost unbearable to those who heard.

"Shh…shh…" Dumbledore soothed, gently rocking Harry in his arms while ignoring the pulsing pain now saturating his leg and hip.

Blasted Internal Boiling Hex.

"Albus!" a man shouted, rushing forward.

"Alastor," Dumbledore whispered, Harry now hiccupping in relative silence.

Moody knelt down, checking Dumbledore for injuries, which he quickly identified, casting a powerful numbing charm. He took note of Dumbledore having two wands, but didn't say anything about it as Dumbledore slid the one in his left hand into his robes.

"We need to get you to St. Mungo's," he stated gruffly before looking over Harry, his wand passing over his tiny form. "And the lad too. His hand has suffered a rather nasty burn, looks like; not to mention exhaustion from what he somehow did."

Dumbledore quickly took hold of Harry's little wrist to look at the wound himself.

With a wince, he recognized it as a magic burn. A burn purely caused by a vast concentration of magic in a small area. Harry's palm was now spotted with the raw white blotches.

Dumbledore met Harry's eyes, which were drooping.

"Rest now, my boy. I'll be with you when you wake," he said. "I won't leave you alone."

With that, Harry closed his eyes and surrendered to sleep.

O o O o O

_Alastor Moody_

"Alright, we'll be apparating in. We don't know what we will be walking into exactly, but according to McGonagall, Dumbledore was very concerned and asked her to send reinforcements. We have coordinates," Moody said, before raising his voice. "I want us all to go in together—no wannabe heroes or idiotic stragglers!"

He watched in satisfaction when they quickly straightened themselves, as if that in itself would prevent them from making any stupid decisions. They were good men and women, the brightest in their lot, in fact. Unfortunately, his satisfaction was marred by the knowledge that something was not right. With the fidelus charm in place, McGonagall should not have been able to tell him where the house was. This stank of betrayal.

"Hmph. Let's go!" he said.

They all then apparated to the edge of the property, but before Moody could begin dishing out orders, the Death Eaters gave out their own.

"It's the Aurors!"

"Kill Dumbledore and the brat!"

The scene before Moody confirmed his suspicions of a betrayal as he could only watch several green curses rocket toward his best friend, Albus Dumbledore, and the son of one of his most prized students.

He could hardly believe his eyes as the fatal lights continued, Albus Dumbledore showing speed and agility far beyond what his age should have been capable of as he somehow called the Potter child to himself and erected an earthen shield around them. Too bad it was not enough.

Moody and the other aurors began moving, but then everything seemed to freeze as they witnessed the impossible.

A tiny hand rose up, defiantly open in front of the power that had the entire Wizarding World on its knees. The curses struck, the child moving his hand firmly into the path of each.

And then it happened.

Indescribable, unbelievable, overwhelming power seemed to solidify in the air, just before the curses rebounded back as a green raging storm in the shape of a tilted cone.

All of the dark figures on that side _dropped_. Completely lifeless.

"Good Merlin!" Auror Hopkins shouted, staring at the now dead Death Eater before him.

"Stay back, Hopkins! Didn't I tell you?!" Alastor shouted at him. Hopkins was always the first to jump into a fight and the last to back out. He made a good auror, or he would if he cared more about his hide. He had survived much that would kill a lesser man.

Death Eaters began running, not picking up any of the fallen. Alastor shouted at his aurors to fire at their sorry backsides, and bursts of red spouted from their wands. A few fell, but others made it off the property in time to apparate away. Alastor cursed. It was likely they would never know who those masked scoundrels were.

Alastor ran to Dumbledore and the child who had somehow pulled off a miracle. He knelt down to check for major injuries. He recognized the boiling blood hex and cast a powerful numbing charm so Dumbledore could be moved without causing too much pain. He wondered where the other wand Dumbledore was holding came from, but decided not to question it. After all, Alastor had a few tricks up his own sleeve.

"We need to get you to St. Mungo's," he stated gruffly before looking over Harry, finding a terrible burn and magical residue. "And the lad too. His hand has suffered a rather nasty burn, looks like; not to mention exhaustion from what he somehow did."

Dumbledore quickly took hold of Harry's little wrist to look at the wound himself. He winced at the burn, then said quietly to the exhausted child, "Rest now, my boy. I'll be with you when you wake. I won't leave you alone."

Harry passed out and Alastor stood to let the healer in. He always had one or two who could be immediately contacted if something went wrong. The young man stepped in to examine Dumbledore and Harry. He nodded crisply when he noted Alastor's numbing charm. He conjured a stretcher and pulled out a piece of parchment.

"Sir, I have news," a young auror ran up to Alastor.

"What is it, Richards?" Alastor barked as he watched his friend being placed on the stretcher.

"You sent four of us to the back, and we saw Sirius Black there," the auror began.

That betrayer! "Did you bring him in, Richards?" Alastor demanded, suddenly interested.

"Er, no sir. We assumed that since he was an auror, he was supposed to be there. Anyway, he was shooting at a rat. We weren't sure what to do, so we pointed our wands at him. He was screaming 'Betrayal! Come out, you coward!' and finally, he hit the rat. It turned into Peter Pettigrew, who I went to school with. He looked awful. He screamed at Black that he had to do it, he just had to. He shot at Black and ducked inside the house. Black charged after him. Just after, there was an explosion. I went in after we deemed it clear, and both of them were dead in the kitchen. We don't know what this means, but decided to report it."

Pettigrew was the betrayer? Alastor blinked. Apparently it wasn't just the boy's cowardice that rubbed him the wrong way. "Thank you Richards, you were correct in your actions. Now help the rest clean up."

"Yes, sir," Richards responded.

The healer with Dumbledore was almost out of the non-portkey wards on the Potter's property. Alastor hurried to his friend's side. Dumbledore should know this even if he could do nothing with the information yet. "Albus!" Moody exclaimed as he drew closer.

Dumbledore turned his face, pain written on it despite the numbing charm. "Yes, my friend?"

"I just got word. Pettigrew was the betrayer, not Black," Alastor answered.

Dumbledore's brow rose, but all he said was, "Good."

Alastor looked around and noticed his men still sifting through the remains of the Death Eaters. "My men can carry on from here. I will accompany you and the lad. I don't want anyone near you who may try to seek revenge for this."

"Thank you, Alastor," Dumbledore replied.

Once they had left the property, Dumbledore and Harry were portkeyed to St. Mungo's. Alastor kept his word and let no one near who wasn't checked out by him.

Dumbledore had refused to allow them to take Harry from his sight, and had gone as far as asking Alastor to give a wizard's oath that he would not allow them to take Harry from whatever room Dumbledore was currently in. Due to circumstances, Alastor readily agreed. Dumbledore then asked him to send aurors to the Longbottoms and to any other family Alastor believed may become a target because of recent events. After making the oath and assuring Dumbledore that he would do as he had asked, the healers gave Dumbledore a potion to keep him unconscious while they worked on his injuries. Swigging it down, Dumbledore finally passed out.

While they continued to work on Dumbledore, other healers wrapped Harry's hand with soft gauze and bandaged his cut. Because of the nature of the wounds, the healers were reluctant to use magic on the sleeping boy.

Finally, the healers were able to reverse the curse on Dumbledore's leg. They said that he should wake just after the reversal, then fall into a natural sleep.

That didn't happen. They reversed the curse, but Dumbledore was unresponsive. Just as the healers decided to try something drastic, there was a bright flash of fire. Alastor drew his wand and nearly fired before he realized it was Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix.

The phoenix landed gently on Dumbledore and sang, then began crying. The tears fell on Dumbledore's forehead, and Fawkes moved to young Potter, repeating his antics. Then he flew to a shelf against the wall, continuing to sing. Alastor felt his heart constrict, and he prided himself on being rather heartless. The song was beautiful, tragic, and heartwarming all at the same time.

However, Dumbledore remained unconscious, but the healers decided to let him be for a time before they tried anything else. They assigned a young healer, Stephanie Somac, someone Alastor had already cleared, to watch over the two as they slept. The healers ushered Alastor out, saying that he could visit when both were better.

There was nothing he could do for now, so he set off to dispatch aurors to the Longbottoms and other possible Death Eater targets, and to find Lupin. Lupin would want to know what had happened, and who had really been the traitor.

* * *

Authors' note: Since it has been asked, yes, this story will have pairings, though at the moment we don't have any pairings lined up except a bit of hinting at AD McG. Don't worry, we won't be going into any great detail with that sort of thing. The most it will ever be is simple fluff. As for Harry . . . he's a baby, and it will probably take a little bit for any possibles to mature enough for him to even consider any relationship of that sort. Hope that answers anyone's questions concerning that.

If anyone else has questions, feel free to ask. We will answer the questions we feel we can.


	3. Discussions

Disclaimer: Really? We don't own this? Are you sure? Darn, must have been a dream then.

**Part 3: Discussions**

McGonagall took a seat in the waiting room, anxious and worried about what the healer had just told her. Dumbledore was still unconscious, despite the tears from Fawkes.

Moody had contacted her, and the rest of the Order, and told her what had happened. She couldn't believe what the Potter child had done, and the fact that Dumbledore had bolted there only to keep over thirty Death Eaters back before the aurors arrived . . . and before Harry did whatever he had done.

"Any word, Alastor?" McGonagall asked, sinking into her chair as she turned to face him.

"No. They have been discussing what they should do, and if it would be safe to try to forcibly wake him, but because of his age . . . ."

"How is the boy?" she asked.

"Don't really know; he was asleep when I saw him. His hand and forehead have been bandaged, and the healers told me he is exhausted," he said.

McGonagall nodded with a sigh, hoping Dumbledore would wake soon.

O o O o O

Healer Somac sighed, the other healers still at a loss about what to do with Albus Dumbledore, who was currently still out on the bed.

And then there was the fact the Potter child had to remain in the room. Most of the healers treating Dumbledore had heard Moody give his vow to Dumbledore and knew if anyone tried to remove Harry from the room, Moody would be obligated to do everything within his power to bring Harry back and punish the one who had taken the boy. So, understandably, not wanting a rampaging Mad-eye on their hands, they had placed a crib right by Dumbledore's bed.

The infant seemed to be pleased with this, and stretched out his arms toward Dumbledore every so often.

After several hours of debating, the healers had finally decided to try something to wake the old wizard; however, Dumbledore suddenly woke before they could carry it out, for which they were all thankful.

Harry immediately stood up in his crib, looking at Dumbledore in what the healers could only assume was baby concern.

"Headmaster, it is good to see you awake," one of the healers said, no doubt the one in charge. "I am Healer Bridge, and I am in charge of your and young Potter's care while you two are here."

"Hello, Healer Adam Bridge. Hufflepuff, '71, right?" Dumbledore asked.

Bridge seemed impressed and nodded. "I'm surprised that you remember me. It is also good news; we had been worried about how you would be once you woke, but your memory, at least long term, seems to be intact."

"Would there be reason for it to be otherwise?" Dumbledore asked.

"We had to give you a potion to place you in a kind of stasis until we were able to reverse the curse that had hit you and repair the damage done. You should have woken after we had finished, but you didn't," Bridge answered, coming closer to the bed and waving the other healers away.

Bridge focused his attention on his adult patient, pulling out his wand, totally missing the change in expression of his younger one.

Harry didn't need to completely fake the fear of wands, just embrace it, which he did, deciding it best to act as any child would after having witnessed what the wooden objects could do. Not to do so would be a tad suspicious. Looking back, perhaps he had embraced it a bit too well. . . .

"Bad! Bad! Baaaaaad!" Harry shouted, gripping the side of his crib and shaking it as hard as his little body could before reaching for Dumbledore with his good hand while swinging his tiny bandaged fist at Bridge.

Dumbledore turned, feeling fear, anger, and frustration from Harry, but also a feeling that told him it was not all genuine, though some of it was, no doubt from him being an infant. _What is Harry doing? Ah . . . makes sense to act this way around wands, after what has recently happened._

Dumbledore moved to pick him up, but one of the female healers got to Harry first.

"There, there, Healer Bridge isn't bad, he's going to help. He's going to check Dumbledore for anymore boo-boo's, see?" she said, trying her best to keep hold of the now hysterical child who was glaring at Bridge's wand now pointing limply at Dumbledore.

Bridge was at a loss.

"Nooo! Bad!" Harry insisted, now sobbing and trying his best to get out of the confused and worried woman's arms.

Healer Somac, who was beside the healer holding Harry, hurried to the cabinet for a calming draught, but not before something cracked.

Bridge's wand shot out of his hand, crashing into a picture hanging on the wall beyond, exploding the frame, glass, and moving photo into a spectacular shower of sparks and magic.

"Waaahhh!" Harry cried, suddenly terrified about what he had just done; well that and being startled by the loud noise.

"Here, let me take him," Dumbledore said, not phased at all by the display of magic just witnessed by them all.

The healer passed Harry over to Dumbledore without question as the other healers backed away, Bridge now gaping stupidly at Harry.

"I am sorry about your wand, Adam. If you wish, I will contact my friend, Ollivander, and have him try to repair it or make you another," Dumbledore said, Harry now content in his arms.

"Uh . . . I, uh, thank you, professor," Bridge managed, staring warily at Harry, who had thankfully calmed down.

"He is still only a child, and one who has gone through more than most or any of you. Do not look at him in fear or unease. What he needs now is love and understanding," Dumbledore stated before looking down to meet Harry's eyes. "Harry, Bridge and the other healers are not going to hurt me, okay? You can relax."

He felt Harry relax and broadcast a feeling of apology toward him.

"It's alright now, no one's angry," Dumbledore continued, much to the confusion of the healers present.

Did he expect the child to actually understand him?

Harry sniffled, bringing his bandaged hand up to his chest protectively. Dumbledore sighed, able to guess that Harry had likely hurt his hand in all that thrashing.

"Here, he could probably use a pain reliever. There's some calming draught within it as well, but not much," Healer Somac said, handing Dumbledore a little chewable disguised as a child's candy.

Dumbledore gave it to Harry who took it without question. Bridge took that moment to calm himself and order his thoughts.

"Headmaster, I understand Harry's reaction, considering what has recently happened to him when others pointed their wands at him and you, but, I am sure I don't need to tell you how . . . abnormal it is for an infant to display such accidental magic," Bridge said. "I am just as ill-prepared as anyone concerning this sort of thing, since I doubt anyone knows how or why the events of last night happened, but even you have to admit that this child needs and will need special care. Are you certain you wish him to remain in this room with you?

"From what happened last night, and what just has, it is clear young Potter is powerful. I just don't want anything to happen that will make his life any more . . . difficult," Bridge said as gently as he could. He was just as concerned over Harry's well-being as his staff's safety.

"Adam, I appreciate your concern, but Harry is my responsibility now. He shall remain at my side from now on, where I can repair or prevent any more incidents and care for him," he said, his eyes giving a light twinkle before continuing. "As you have already alluded to, Harry's future is going to be hard, which is why I will not abandon him or hand him off to anyone else, good intentions or not." His eyes darkened for a moment, which was actually quite frightening. It was as if the old man was trying to atone for something in his past.

"Very well, Headmaster. We will try our best to help in every way we can. If you ever need a healer in the future for Mr. Potter, you are welcome to come to me anytime," Bridge said, clearly a Hufflepuff.

"Thank you, Adam."

O o O o O

Harry was currently sleeping in a transfigured crib beside the Headmaster's bed, a light notice-me-not charm cast upon it.

"Albus, how are you feeling?" McGonagall asked, wringing her hands somewhat, clearly not knowing what to do but wishing she did as she stepped into the room.

Dumbledore moved to get up, but due to how wobbly his legs were and how tired he was, he didn't make much progress getting out of bed before McGonagall hurried to his side.

"Albus, don't get out of bed! The healers told me what happened, and you shouldn't be trying to move!" she said, trying to force him back onto the bed.

Dumbledore sat back on the bed as McGonagall leaned forward, no doubt wanting to help him get back under the blankets, but his hand suddenly cupping her face stopped her.

She froze, not expecting such a touch, and looked up to meet blue eyes that looked as if they had just witnessed something horrendous.

"Albus?" she whispered, completely forgetting there was a healer in the room with them. "What's wrong?"

The next thing she knew, he had wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer to the bed and against his chest, causing her knees to come to rest on the floor.

She didn't move or say anything for several seconds, understandably concerned over Dumbledore's actions. Finally, Dumbledore released her with a heavy shaky sigh, clearly reigning in thick emotion.

"My apologies, Minerva, I just needed to make sure you were really here," he whispered with a muffled sniffle, getting back under the covers.

She frowned, but didn't know what to say to that immediately. She glanced up at the nurse who had readied a calming draught.

"Well, I'm here, Albus, but you didn't answer my question earlier. How are you feeling? We were worried when you didn't wake when they reversed the curse. You were unresponsive for several hours afterwards."

"Healer Bridge told me as much, but don't worry. I'm feeling much better, Minerva, much better. Though I am certain I would feel even better if I had something sweet," he admitted, resting back against his pillows.

McGonagall smiled softly, pulling a little pouch from her pocket.

"You know me too well, Minerva," Dumbledore said, reverently taking the gift and putting two fingers in the bag to retrieve a lemon drop. "Ahh... it's been so long since I've had one of these..." he whispered as he actually stroked the shiny yellow exterior. "I've almost forgotten how they taste.... I think I will keep this one forever with me in my pocket. Hmm, I might even name it. How about Old Yeller?"

"But Albus, you just had a whole bag yesterday morning!" McGonagall reminded him.

"What was that, Minerva? A whole bag? Ah...I remember now, alas, almost choked on number 46. Fawkes had to save me." He sighed, almost as if he was recalling a great loss.

McGonagall placed her hand on his shoulder.

"I don't think you understand how much you scared us, Albus. Fawkes even came and cried on you, and Alastor told us you just laid there," she said quietly.

"Really? Fawkes came? Interesting..." he said, wondering if that had affected anything merging wise, particularly the bit about his memories and magic from the future.

Minerva began to say something else but stopped when Harry began to stir, causing her to suddenly notice the crib right up against Dumbledore's bed. Dumbledore straightened up, turning to Harry as McGonagall blinked. Why hadn't she noticed the crib earlier?

Harry quickly got up, immediately reaching for Dumbledore as McGonagall gasped, seeing his bandaged hand.

"How is he? And why is he staying in the same room as you?" she asked.

"I felt it best if he remain with me from now on," Dumbledore stated, Harry turning his eyes to McGonagall as Dumbledore lifted him up and placed him on his lap.

McGonagall frowned, standing up. "What do you mean, 'from now on'?"

Dumbledore sighed sadly. "I don't know if you've heard, but James and Lily were not the only ones who fell last night. Peter betrayed the Potters, and Sirius caught him trying to leave the house from the back in the midst of battle in his rat form. Sirius forced him to revert back and evidently cornered him in the kitchen. Curses were exchanged, and from what Alastor can conclude, after being gravely injured, Peter cast a desperate bombarda, hitting the oven. Sirius and Peter were both killed in the resulting blast."

"I-I hadn't heard..." McGonagall muttered.

Harry leaned back against Dumbledore, feeling physically and emotionally drained. He of course picked up Dumbledore's churning emotions, but his were overriding them at the moment.

Though part of Harry was heartbroken over the fact Sirius had died, another part of him was happy it had gone this way. At least this time Sirius had gone out as a hero and had taken out the sniveling rat. He had gone the way he would have wanted to.

Instead of as a taunting, idiotic criminal who had been stupefied through a veil.

Harry sighed sadly, once again drawing McGonagall's attention.

"Is he okay? Is it true?" she asked. "Alastor told me some, but... it's just so hard to believe."

Dumbledore placed his hand on Harry's head. "He will be fine, though this will scar--" Dumbledore gently brushed the hair on Harry's forehead away to reveal the band-aid covered cut. "--as well as the damage to his hand. And what Alastor told you is true."

"Will his hand be alright?" she asked. "I was told Fawkes cried on his wounds, but it didn't seem to do much."

"Hmm. Well, I honestly don't know if the magical burn will leave any effects, positive or negative, but we'll deal with them as they come. If they come."

McGonagall took a chair that was against the wall and pulled out her wand. She was planning to tap it with her wand and turn the hard plastic chair into a comfy one with cushions and arms, but she didn't get that far.

"Waaaahhhhhh!"

"Oh, dear. It's alright, Harry, no one is going to get hurt," Dumbledore began.

McGonagall turned with her wand, startled by Harry's cry and quickly becoming concerned by what she was seeing.

Harry was having a full blown melt down. His face was red and wet with tears, his arms wrapping around Dumbledore in a vice-grip, and even Harry himself was shocked by his reaction.

All he could see was the wand while imagining all of the terrible things the little thing could do in the hands of a psychopath. His memories from the future, especially, were what shot to the forefront of his mind, for several moments overpowering all rational thought.

McGonagall gasped, unknowingly turning her wand more towards them.

"WAHHHH!!! WAAAHHHH!!!"

"MINERVA, DROP YOUR WAND!!!" Dumbledore shouted.

McGonagall immediately did as he ordered, Harry instantly halting his screams and simply crying, turning his face into Dumbledore's beard, trying not to think about all of the horrid things he had seen done by wands.

Dumbledore, who could feel the conflicting emotions from Harry, simply held him, understanding Harry's turmoil as they both took a moment to battle with their past, though technically future, experiences and hope to prevent a lost future.

Healer Somac, who was suddenly there with an eye dropper, gave Harry a dose of calming draught before waving away a concerned healer who had hurried in upon hearing the cries. That healer nodded in understanding, no doubt calling off the reinforcements behind him.

Healer Somac was a new healer, and had been told to simply watch over Harry and Dumbledore for the day, to make sure all was well.

"It's alright, Harry. See? Everything's fine. Everything _will_ be fine," Dumbledore reminded him, now rocking in a soothing motion.

"I'm sorry, Albus. Alastor had mentioned his reaction to wands, I had just forgotten. . . ."

"Quite alright, Minerva. I'm sure it will just take time for him to get used to seeing other people besides myself using wands positively again," he said, feeling Harry give a slight nod in agreement against his chest.

"So he is alright with seeing you use your wand?" McGonagall asked.

"So far, though I do warn him before I do anything," he said, taking out his wand. "I'm going to fix Minerva's chair, alright?"

Her chair morphed into a dark silk recliner with dancing lemon drops covering it. Seeing it change, Harry giggled, which was a great improvement.

"Are you trying to introduce him to sweets this early, Albus?" she asked, happy Harry was smiling again.

"Who said anything about trying?" Dumbledore asked, a twinkle in his eye.

Harry stared at him, a pleased smile on his face. It had been a long time since he had seen any spark in those eyes.

McGonagall misinterpreted Harry's grin, convinced Dumbledore had already corrupted the child with candy. Too bad she didn't know it had happened long before -or was it after- this.

McGonagall shook her head, suddenly taking the time to get a good look at the baby on Dumbledore's lap.

"Three killing curses..." McGonagall whispered, as she stared at Harry's hand. "How is that even possible? And then there's what happened before you even arrived." She glanced at Harry's forehead before looking up at Dumbledore.

"How did you know? You left even before the alarms in your office sounded," she said.

Dumbledore stopped himself from fidgeting, while quickly reminding himself that Healer Somac was in the room with them.

Somac tried not to make it appear as if she was hanging on every word of the conversation, but Dumbledore knew she was. She was practically ebbing curiosity, and who could blame her? She was currently in the room with two of the most famous people in the Wizarding World: Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter.

"I'm not sure," Dumbledore said. How could he explain that his caution from the future caused him to not take anything for granted?

A rule he would continue to live by. Because of that action, he was able to salvage what might have been lost. Having thought it over while he was integrating the memories from his future self, he now realized that a time shift had been caused. Although no one living in said 'time-zone' could actually -feel- the effects, it gave them an extended amount of 'time' to think over a single decision. No doubt it had given Voldemort time to rethink his approach to taking out the Potter's.

"I just felt that I needed to go to the Potter's, that something bad had just happened or was about to," Dumbledore said, hoping vagueness would suffice.

McGonagall nodded, deciding that was a reasonable answer. Dumbledore sometimes just knew things. This was no doubt one of those times.

"So, he really reflected those curses back?" McGonagall asked after a moment.

"Reflected and amplified," Dumbledore said, casually looking over at Healer Somac and meeting her eyes.

Somac suddenly decided she would never repeat what she heard in that room and gave a slight nod to Dumbledore, conveying the silent promise.

Dumbledore looked back at McGonagall.

"Twelve Death Eaters died as a result, though one wasn't killed by it directly. He was struck down by part of the wall from the house. Sebastian Crabbe," Dumbledore said.

"Twelve? All of them at once?!" she gasped, looking at Harry, unable to believe such a quiet, harmless looking child could bring about anything like that.

"Yes. Somehow, the three curses merged, and, through Harry's own magic, were morphed into a cone. Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, Theodore Nott, Igor Karkarof, and seven others were hit by it. So in total, counting Peter Pettigrew and Sebastian Crabbe, thirteen Death Eaters were killed last night," Dumbledore said.

McGonagall reached out an old but soft hand toward Harry's bandaged little one. Taking it in hers, she smiled sadly at Harry, who briskly blinked away a few tears that had been trying to rise.

It was so good to see her again.

"You have an owie, don't you?" she cooed. "You're being such a big brave boy, though."

Harry smiled, showing a few baby teeth. He turned his eyes up to Dumbledore, getting a look in his eyes that Dumbledore wasn't sure he liked.

Harry raised his wrapped hand, moving it towards Dumbledore's face.

"Boo-boo. M'ke bett'r?" he said, before making a smacking noise with his lips.

Dumbledore blinked, suddenly realizing there was no way out of this and knowing Harry was enjoying every moment of it. Hey, Harry was a baby, he was going to enjoy it while he could. Perhaps Dumbledore would have the chance to show Harry the love he had missed the first time through his life.

He glanced over at McGonagall, whose eyes were twinkling much like his would in any other amusing situation. He knew if he didn't do this, he would be seen as a mean old co--- no, he couldn't even say it, and to even imagine McGonagall thinking those words about him made him want to cringe.

He could never hear or see those words and not want to weep.

He shook himself of bad memories and looked down at the expectant Harry.

"Oh, is your hand hurting you?" he asked, gently taking hold of Harry's injured hand with his left while bringing it up to his lips. He gave the wrapped hand a quick loving kiss before patting Harry on the head.

'Two can play at this game.' Dumbledore smirked. "Maybe we should have the healers take a look at it again, hmm?"

Having the body and unstable emotions of an infant, Harry's bottom lip quavered and his eyes quickly filled with tears.

Catching a disapproving look from McGonagall, Dumbledore quickly moved to repair the situation. Healer Somac couldn't fight back a smile.

"Oh, there-there, Harry. It's okay, you don't need to see the healers, I was only teasing..." he said, placing Harry's head on his shoulder and rubbing his back. Harry sniffled but relaxed.

"So, are you really going to take Harry in yourself, or had I misunderstood you?" she asked.

"Yes. Yes, I am," he said, now having seen the formerly unfamiliar memories.

He and Harry, before taking the step back through time, had arranged and discussed everything, and the first thing they had agreed to was to have Harry stay with him, Dumbledore. They had discussed Harry staying with Sirius, but now that was out of the question, and when they both really thought about it, Sirius as a parent probably wasn't a wise idea.

"Um, Albus, no offense, but certainly there are others who would be willing to take Harry in?" McGonagall asked, looking at Dumbledore in concern.

"It's not a question about who is willing to take Harry in, it is who Harry is willing to allow to take him," Dumbledore said sagely.

"You can't be serious, Albus. He's just a baby, how can he even know what is best for him? I'm not against you raising him, but surely the Ministry will have something to say about this," she said.

"That they will, but as soon as they look at Harry's file, I am certain they will see the choice has already been made," he said with a smile.

"If you're sure, Albus, but, what does this mean for Hogwarts?"

"What do you mean? I will remain Headmaster; Harry will just be with me from now on."

"Albus, I don't believe you realize how hard it can be to raise a child," she said, unsure if she should be angry with Dumbledore's lack of understanding or amused by it.

"Come now, Minerva, Harry is a good boy. He will be no problem, in fact, I'm looking forward to the little lad walking with me down the halls," he said, giving Harry a little bounce.

Harry giggled, a large part of him looking forward to playing his part of a perfect little headmaster shadow. He would also, of course, enjoy the large amount of candy in a certain old man's office and the attention of a gorgeous fire bird, but a small part of him was not looking forward to being babied -all of the time-, but, alas, that could not be changed. Though, Harry decided, it could be fun while it lasted.

Babies got away with things that no one else could. Mwhahahaha!

"Well, if that is the case, I am certain the other professors, including myself, will be happy to watch Harry when you are unable," she said.

"Thank you, Minerva, that would be appreciated," Dumbledore said, before realizing baby drool was seeping into his hospital robe.

Harry, looking absolutely adorable, was currently soundly sleeping on Dumbledore's shoulder, mouth barely open.

O o O o O

Frank Longbottom finished spinning little Neville around.

"Mo' Da'!" Neville shouted, giggling like only a baby can.

Frank set Neville down, breathing hard. Neville was not a small baby. "More later, ok Neville? Why don't you go play with Bear?"

"Bear!" Neville said happily as he toddled off to find his favorite toy. Frank wiped his forehead and cracked his back. At least Neville was a happy baby. If he didn't get his way, he found something else to be happy about. Frank and his wife, Alice, were very glad about this. As he proudly watched his son shake Bear, he heard the chime that indicated someone was trying to use the floo. Only one person at this point knew where they were, Frank's mother, Augusta Longbottom. She was their secret keeper, and came by fairly often to check on little Neville.

He turned to greet his mother. "Mother, I'm glad you ca-"

A stunner hit him in the chest. As he fell unconscious, he thought of Alice and Neville. He'd failed to protect them.

O o O

Frank woke on his living room floor. He heard voices and pulled his wand from his pocket, jumping up to face his attacker.

Mad-Eye Moody?

"What are you doing here?" Frank questioned, keeping his wand on the disfigured man in his living room.

"Teaching you a lesson, you idiot!" Mad-Eye answered with a scowl. "You were once one of my best aurors, and yet you've been bested in your own home when you _know_ you were in hiding. Disgraceful! What if I'd been an enemy?"

Frank looked down, unable to meet Mad-Eye's...er...mad eye. It was the truth, and if he was correct, it wasn't the end of his scolding, either. Best to be quiet and listen.

"What if Augusta had been tortured, or even killed?" Mad-Eye continued, his face nearly purple with anger. "All our efforts to hide you would have been wasted!"

He paused, and Frank took this to mean he wanted a response of some kind. "You're right," Frank answered quietly. "I let my hopes interfere with my logic. It won't happen again."

Mad-Eye nodded brusquely, apparently content with Frank's answer. Frank knew he would have to be on his guard even more after this. Mad-Eye was not one to let lessons be forgotten by lack of repetition. "The reason I am here, Longbottom, ironically, is to warn you to be on your guard." He slapped a paper on the coffee table in front of Frank, who bent over and adjusted his glasses to read the headline.

**You-Know-Who Defeated by Infant!!!**

"Is this true?" Frank asked in surprise. If it was so, why would he need to be on guard?

"More or less," Mad-Eye answered. "He wasn't killed, although the paper says he was. Albus will explain when he gives a speech tomorrow." His face showed his disgust at such an idea. "The other Death Eaters might be seeking some form of twisted revenge for his defeat, though, so be on your guard. The charm is a good one, but you personally must be in charge of your family's safety. I would keep the fidelus active for awhile longer, but don't depend on it, or else you'll end up dead by someone who managed to get the secret."

"I see," Frank said, still stunned by all the information.

"Well, I must be off," Mad-Eye suddenly said. "No time to stand around gabbing like old witches at tea time." As if anyone would mistake the grisly man for an old witch! He turned to go.

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he shouted as he stepped through the floo.

Frank picked up the paper and began to read.

O o O o O

McGonagall left a few hours later, after discussing some more commonplace things, such as exactly how to punish Miss Skeeter for her lie-spreading. She promised to be back the following day. It was currently just after lunch, and the healers had just come in and put a fresh wrap on Harry's hand.

It was obvious it would scar, despite how many creams the healers applied. It was like a white web across his palm, and in certain areas it had shallow light dents. It would definitely take time getting used to the odd contours.

"Well, Harry, tomorrow we will get to leave St. Mungo's. Are you looking forward to going to Hogwarts' with me?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry nodded excitedly, though to someone watching it probably looked like he was just nodding to please Dumbledore, since he smiled whenever Harry responded and shared lemon drops.

He was about to give Harry a lemon drop when someone knocked on the door.

"Come in," Dumbledore said, Harry taking hold of the little yellow candy.

Two sharply dressed people stepped in, a man and a woman. The man held the door open for the woman, who thanked him softly. He then shut the door behind them. There were currently no healers in the room. The witch wore dark blue robes and had very short, brown hair and brown eyes. The wizard wore a dark muggle suit and looked comfortable in it. He had bright red hair and wore glasses. Dumbledore did not recognize them, but that seemed to be the result of a spell. From their projected age, they had probably passed through Hogwarts about 4 or 5 years ago.

"Albus Dumbledore, it is good to see you well," the witch said. "I am Unspeakable Anna, and this is my partner, Unspeakable Colin."

Unspeakables, that explained it. "Ah, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Dumbledore asked, gesturing to two chairs that had previously been occupied by Minerva and Alastor. Unspeakable Anna gave a half smile at the armchair with the dancing lemon drops, then sat in it, paying no more attention to the garish decor. Colin sat in the other unchanged folding chair.

Harry remained on the bed beside Dumbledore, his eyes watching the two strangers curiously.

"I am sure you understand. After recent events, we desire to investigate a few things, particularly things surrounding the child now under your care," Anna said, briefly looking at Harry.

Harry decided to play it safe and shrank back beside Dumbledore, as if trying to blend into him.

"I had expected something like this," Dumbledore said.

"Good, that will make this easier for all of us," Anna said.

"I will allow you to examine Harry, but the moment he becomes uncomfortable, I will halt whatever is going on. He has already been through a lot, and I am not about to add to it. Also, we are leaving tomorrow, so if your investigation continues after today, you will have to work around my schedule," Dumbledore said.

"We understand, sir, and it is not our desire to add to the traumas he's had. We just want to understand how he did what he did, and if it can be repeated. We have gathered a number of memories from willing aurors and, I don't say this lightly, they have stunned our department. Anything we learn from Mr. Potter may one day save lives or help us learn more on the dynamics of unforgivables," Anna answered.

"Very well, then. Do you have any questions for me?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes, and we thank you for your cooperation," Anna answered. "Colin?"

Colin nodded, pulling out a little notebook and a quill as Anna leaned back in her chair, smiling slightly. "You were holding Mr. Potter when he reflected three killing curses. Can you tell us if you felt anything from the child before, during or after they hit?" he asked with an unmistakable Irish accent.

Dumbledore leaned back, recalling the moments of that event. He could clearly remember every emotion that had come from Harry, as well as himself, but he certainly couldn't tell the Unspeakables that. Then he'd have to explain why he has such a close emotional tie to an infant, so strong that it was a type of empathic link.

So what could he tell them?

"It is a bit fuzzy, you understand, but I do recall a very powerful magical pulse that came from Harry right before the first curse hit. It was rather indescribable. And then before they all reflected back, making that cone, I felt anger, unhindered wrath, and love from the magic. I know it makes me sound like a barmy old man, but that's what it felt like," Dumbledore said.

The two Unspeakables nodded.

"That is much how others present described it, though I don't believe they included the 'love' portion of it," Colin said curiously.

"Hmm, well to me that was the strongest and scariest part, to be completely honest," Dumbledore said.

"Was it parental?" Colin asked.

Dumbledore scooted Harry closer to him, thinking.

_It was parental, but it was so much more. The desire not to die so we'd have the chance to do what we came here to do,_ Dumbledore thought. _To save those we love and those who they love. To save families, born and yet to be. Hmm, _Dumbledore mused_, it is much like the web now on Harry's hand_.

How many had they already saved, removing several high ranking Death Eaters in one go?

"The protective aspect of parental love, definitely," he said, deciding that was the truth.

Colin jotted that down before looking at Harry, who was eyeing him warily.

"May we take a look at him and his wounds?" Anna asked, suddenly leaning forward in the chair.

"Yes, but allow me to cast the needed spells. Understandably, he does not respond well to others pointing their wands at him," Dumbledore said.

"And he is fine seeing you use your wand?" Colin asked, intrigued.

"He saw me defending him and myself with it. It seems to me that he feels he can trust me," Dumbledore said with a small shrug.

"Alright, if you would then?" Anna asked.

Dumbledore took out his wand, Harry never letting his eyes stray from it.

"I'm just going to wave this around you, Harry, nothing to worry about," he said, not for Harry but for those watching.

Colin presented Dumbledore with his notebook open to a blank page after Dumbledore did a quick body scan. Dumbledore tapped the tip of his wand onto the page, producing a list of information.

"Ah, thank you, sir, even more thorough than I had expected," Colin said, quite pleased with all of the collected data.

Anna slid her chair closer to the bed while her partner ogled over his notebook.

"His hand and forehead?" Anna prompted. "I need to document them and I'm sure Colin wouldn't mind additional information concerning them, once he's finished drooling over what he has," she said, rolling her eyes and smiling on one side of her mouth.

"Certainly," Dumbledore said, carefully removing the blue dragon band-aid from Harry's head. It needed to be replaced soon anyway.

Anna took out a miniature magical camera and snapped a picture. She smiled fully after that and said, "You're such a beautiful boy, Harry."

Harry smiled shyly.

"I trust these photos will remain out of public view?" Dumbledore stated, his voice containing a tone that said they had better be.

"Of course, only top ranking Unspeakables will be able to see them," Anna said, before taking another. "Alright; hand?"

Dumbledore turned Harry's hand, palm up, and gently unwrapped the gauze.

Anna blinked, currently unable to come up with anything to say as she took a picture of the little palm.

"Colin, take a look," she said, forcing Colin to stop looking at his notebook.

He walked over and adjusted his glasses. "Sweet Rowena . . ." he breathed.

Harry began to feel uncomfortable and tried to move his hand away, almost as if ashamed of it.

"Aw, it's okay. He's just being stupid," Anna said, making Harry smile. "I think it's really cool." Colin shot her a look and she once again smiled with one side of her mouth.

Dumbledore then took a quick scan with his wand over the scars-to-be, and after mentally cataloging the results and ensuring none of the information could turn against them later, he tapped the tip of his wand to yet another page in Colin's prized notebook.

"This is a great deal to look over," Colin said happily, scanning over the pages. "If we find anything we believe will be helpful or what you need to know, we'll be sure to share it with you, since you've been really helpful in all of this."

Dumbledore wrapped Harry's hand back up as the Unspeakables began packing up.

"I believe there is a great deal for us to learn," Dumbledore said, "and getting in each other's way is not beneficial. I also feel that in the future, all of us will need to help each other. I am sure your people have already scanned Godric's Hollow and have come to the same conclusion as I. Voldemort was not destroyed, just temporarily defeated."

"Yes, we have," Anna said, standing up as Colin began making his way to the door. "I'm glad that you are seeing certain things as we do. A few of my colleagues thought you would not be much help," she said with another half smile, turning to go out the door. At the door frame she paused and turned her head. "They assumed you would act as an old codger like you do in public. I'm glad that's just an act, at least when it comes to serious things. Good day, Headmaster. Thanks for your help."

It took everything Dumbledore had to bid them farewell with an easy going voice, and everything Harry had not to burst into tears as a wave of painful emotion washed over him from Dumbledore.

As soon as the door shut and they were alone, Harry turned to Dumbledore and hugged him.

"We'll save 'em, A'bus. We w'll," Harry said, forcing his tongue to pronounce the words as best he could with the few teeth he had.

Dumbledore didn't say anything as he returned the hug, a stray tear making its way into his white beard.

O o O o O

* * *

Authors' notes:

We had some questions about why we killed Sirius. The answer is that we had decided he was going to visit on Halloween anyway, because otherwise, why would he have been there in canon? We decided that he used his "extra time" from the time shift to decide to go earlier, thus catching Peter leaving. We killed him because, frankly, neither of us liked his death in canon, and due to things that must happen later on, his death was necessary.

As for Harry and Dumbledore's relationship, it is a strict mix of father-son, mentor-student, and two old friends/war buddies.

Please note that questions fuel our writing and make us notice things we might have missed. Continue asking!


	4. RDHPIT

Disclaimer: Really? We don't own this? Are you sure? Darn, must have been a dream then.

**Part 4: Research and Development of the Human Potential and Improvement Thereof**

0800 hours, November 1

Jess Carter, half-blood, graduate of Slytherin house, the closest thing to an expert on wild magic the magical world had, and head of a small department of the Unspeakables, arrived at work at precisely 8:00. She apparated into the Ministry of Magic, bypassing the normal arrival point next to that hideous fountain and arriving directly into the basement. The only area of the ministry that did not have anti-apparation wards were the entrance hall and this tiny, square box of a room where she arrived. The room had no visible door, but she placed her hand on a specific spot on the wall and stated her name. The wall opened and she found herself in the rotating room of doors. "Research and Development of the Human Potential and Improvement Thereof," she stated for the doors, rolling her eyes at the name. Trust the Ministry to use pompous nomenclature to say something that could have been stated as "Research in Potential" or something as simple.

One of the nondescript doors opened, and she walked down the short hallway to a lounge. Other departments had their research and experiments out for anyone who came through their door in the revolving room, but not hers. Her office, as well as the offices of her subordinates, branched off the lounge, as well as a lab where most of the research and experimentation were actually done. A few other necessary rooms had doors into the lounge as well.

She frowned as she stepped into the lounge. Laying on one of the black couches, with a firewhisky on the small table next to him, was one of her subordinates. Seth Wiggins, researcher of muggle advances and creator of interesting gadgets. He snored slightly and twitched as she walked in.

"Seth! Wake up! It's time for work!" Jess said loudly.

"Ok, ok, I'll be up in a minute," he answered groggily as he turned over.

Jess sighed. This was the second time this week. She knew he would be up in a few minutes, and after a pepper-up potion would be back in his office, working on his latest project. If any of the others got there before he actually rose, well, she would rather be in her office.

She walked by the "Wall of Propaganda," as her unit called it. The wall was covered with flyers and such created and sent by the ministry. Their department would get in trouble if they weren't showing, but some of her subordinates had circled certain words to spell dirty messages, or drawn pictures to go along with them. She didn't mind, as long as her group was technically following the law. And who was going to come down and check, anyway? The last time the Unspeakables had an inspection was back in 1940.

She opened her office door by pressing her wand to the doorframe. As the door opened, she expertly and discretely returned it to her forearm holster, then pulled the sleeve of her black robe over it. Her office had a used look about it, not messy, but not obsessively clean, either. She had posters on her wall of muggle aircraft, which held a certain fascination for her. She surveyed the pictures, putting off the paperwork that appeared on her desk every morning. A P-51 mustang, an F-16, then a bomber. After spending as much time looking and imagining as she could in good conscience, she walked around to her chair and faced the morning paperwork.

Ah, a form for the weekly progress report. She would fill in advances and personnel evaluations. As she picked up her quill, she heard a shout from the lounge. "OW! Son of a..." Sounded like someone found Seth sleeping again.

Curiosity getting the best of her, she peeked through the blinds of her office to see David Scott, researcher of new powers, cracking up and holding the muggle toy gun the department had bought him for his birthday. Seth leapt from the couch faster than Jess had ever seen him move. This had the potential of turning ugly fast. Really, they acted like such children sometimes. Regardless, Jess had a smile as she opened her door. "Boys, please don't tear up the lounge."

"Me?" David said with an incredulous look on his face. "I'd never do anything like that."

Jess knew false innocence when she heard it. "Right, then I don't have to worry. Seth, at least take a shower."

"Fine," Seth answered as he rolled his eyes. He started toward his office as David ran to his door stealthily and opened it. Just before he ducked inside, he shot Seth again, then slammed the door behind him. Jess shut the door fast, pretending she hadn't seen. Seth yelled, but could do nothing, since each office had a lock that could be opened only with the person's wand or Jess's wand.

She wondered where everyone else was. Dakota Meeps, researcher of wizards' full potential, was generally late because of unforeseen events, but Curt Bishop, intelligence analyst, was usually on time or thereabouts. Ah, she heard him come in. He was much quieter than those who came before him, and simply went to his office. Don Kringle, assassin, was on a mission and would not return until he was finished, then he would show up without warning and without explanation. Anna Malfoy and Colin O'Colly, the people who went out to gather information from willing and unwilling sources, were usually early or on time, but sometimes they had assignments from the council before they came to the office. She pushed aside the weekly progress report to see if that was the case.

'URGENT!' a page appeared on her desk. 'Investigation of You-Know-Who's death by infant.'

Interesting. She wondered if this was Don's doing or if the URGENT paper was correct in assigning the death to an infant. She read further and discovered that Anna and Colin had been assigned to this late last night. They were probably still out talking to people and gathering information. Auror Chris Hopkins might know something about all this. He was the group's contact in the aurors, and often ran across people who knew more than they should in his assignments.

Yes, his name was on the report, and he had been the one to suggest Colin and Anna to investigate this. Good. If this allegation was true, then whatever power the infant possessed should be studied by Jess's group, since they were the most qualified. Jess looked forward to meeting this infant, as well as speaking to the famous Albus Dumbledore. They had had no reason to talk to him before now, at least not her department.

Ah, there was Dakota, fifteen minutes late as usual. Jess walked to open her door and see why she was late today. As she opened it, she noticed Dakota's leg wrapped in gauze, and she walked with a slight limp. She was smiling, though.

"Please don't tell me you apparated while on pain medication!" Jess exclaimed.

"Oh, please, I know my limits!" Dakota answered with a laugh.

Jess frowned. That wasn't the issue, but she decided to drop it. Dakota did something intentionally dangerous, and nothing happened. Ever. Most of her injuries came from things that had happened to no one else Jess knew of. "So what happened this time?" Jess asked.

"Oh, well, I was taking my new broom out for a spin and it caught fire," Dakota answered with a dismissive wave of her hand, "but I'm ok. My new broom is totaled, though."

Jess's eyes grew wide and she asked, "Are you all right? I can give you the day off, you know."

"Oh, I'm fine. I've got meds, and hanging around the flat doing nothing is not my idea of a good day," Dakota answered.

"All right, but if you need to leave, you can," Jess said seriously.

"Yeah, thanks. Well, I have to get to my office. Oh, and Anna was called to some raid or something last night, and she hasn't got back yet." Dakota and Anna were roommates, so Dakota often knew if Anna was not going to be there.

"Yeah, I just got the paperwork," Jess answered. "But thanks."

"De nada," Dakota said with a shrug as she hobbled to her office.

Jess shook her head. Her office was full of crazies. Curt was probably the most level-headed, unless you got him on the subject of professional Quiddich teams. When it came to research, though, her department was the best at creating theories from tiny amounts of data.

She went back to filling out the mostly unnecessary paperwork. She would find out what was happening when Anna and Colin returned.

O o O o O

1000 hours, November 1

Anna Malfoy and Colin O'Colly stood at the front of the conference room, ready to speak to the five members of their department who were present. They had just arrived at the department after questioning the healers who had been present when Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter were brought into St Mungo's following the battle. Healer Bridge had been a wellspring of information, both willing and unwilling. Not that they had tortured him by any means, it was just that Anna had ways of seeing information that others wanted to keep secret.

The conference room had special wards around it that, when activated, would slow time down so important things could be discussed in relatively little time. Anna, Colin, and Jess considered this important enough to activate those wards.

"Colin and I were contacted by the Council last night around 10 o'clock. I was told to be in Godric's Hollow at a certain residence as soon as possible and that Colin would meet me there," Anna began. Jess was listening intently, and Dakota also listened, but with a bit less intensity. However, Seth was glaring at David, and David had an angelic fake innocent look on his face as he doodled in his notebook. Curt had his notebook out, but he just looked bored. It didn't really matter. Anna knew they would all be just as intense as Jess in a few moments, what with the information she and Colin had to share.

"I apparated there, and we met up. We thought it was a bit strange to be summoned that late at night, but it is the Ministry." She smirked as she spoke. David, Dakota, and Curt smiled, and Seth snorted. Jess almost smiled, but quickly recomposed her face. "Anyway, there was a lot of chaos there. Aurors were roaming around, gathering up muggles. The house we had apparated to was nearly blown apart, and there were sheets over bodies on the lawn. I counted twelve, right, Colin?"

Colin nodded and displayed one of the pictures from Anna's camera on the wall behind them. It showed the house and the sheets on the lawn, with aurors walking to and fro. Their coworkers were now listening with much more intensity.

"We were greeted by Auror Hopkins, aka Hoppy, and he told us that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was dead, at least, near as they could tell. I went to question the aurors while Colin investigated the house. The aurors all agreed that they arrived after the event in question, but they saw another event. An infant not only survived three killing curses, but amplified and reflected them back, killing twelve Death Eaters."

Everyone's eyebrows were raised now, and David was no longer doodling, but actually taking notes.

"I examined the boy's hand, where the curses hit, and there was a third degree magic burn on it," Anna continued as Colin changed the picture on the wall to one of the child's hand.

"Poor baby," Dakota gasped.

"Well, he's not dead," Anna responded with a shrug, then cringed as she realized how callous that sounded.

"So, what happened to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?" Jess asked.

Colin moved to the front to answer. "From the information I gathered, both from the house and the child, You-Know-Who cast the unforgivable killing curse at the boy, and somehow he reflected it back. The wound on his forehead has magical residue like that found on a body that has been AKed, but obviously, he survived. We're not sure why just yet, but we think Albus Dumbledore may know."

"The Supreme Mugwump?" Dakota questioned. "What does he have to do with it?"

"He was with the boy just after it happened, and he was holding him when he reflected the three AKs," Colin answered.

"Did you find anything, Anna?" Jess asked.

"Albus Dumbledore knows how to protect his mind," Anna answered. "I had to wait until he was talking to Colin about what happened before I had a chance to peek. Honestly, all I gathered was that there was some kind of bond, maybe emotional, between Albus Dumbledore and the boy. Also, the boy has protection on his mind that is just as sophisticated as Mr. Dumbledore's."

"You tried to mind-rape a child?" Dakota exclaimed.

"Just a peek to try to gather information," Anna answered calmly. "I think there is some big secret that Mr. Dumbledore did not tell us. I also got the feeling that it has everything to do with what happened in Godric's Hollow last night. The child and Albus Dumbledore are linked in some way. From what I could tell, it was an emotional bond of some sort."

"A child with mind protections and bonds?" David said in surprise. "I didn't know that was possible."

"So let me get this straight," Seth said. "This kid killed the Dark Bastard and twelve Death Eaters, and somehow has a bond with the most powerful wizard of our time?"

"Not even a kid, but an infant!" David exclaimed incredulously. Curt was quickly taking notes at this point.

"Well, that's something else we were going to share," Colin said. "We don't think He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is actually dead." Colin pursed his lips and lowered his head, looking out over the top of his glasses.

The room exploded into shouts and questions.

"We have facts!" Anna exclaimed over the noise, but the questions continued. She glared and crossed her arms, waiting for the room to quiet down. When that didn't happen quickly enough, she cast a mass silencing spell on the group. They could hear anything outside the bubble, but not themselves. Several people glared at her, and Seth made a rude gesture, but she had her silence.

"Thank you for listening," she said sarcastically. "Fact one, we never found You-Know-Who's body. Fact two, there was a lot of magical residue in one spot where there were burned robes in the house. This residue consisted entirely of dark magic. There was similar residue on the boy's forehead. While we're not sure what this means, it seems to point to the conclusion that You-Know-Who is not actually dead. None of the aurors saw him, however, which leads to a few options. Option one, he is an animagus. Option two, he has an invisibility cloak of some sort. Option three, he used some form of dark magic as yet unknown. Option four, which we don't think happened, due to the crispy robes, he left with a mask like the other Death Eaters.

"Personally, I think it was the third option, since his robes were left behind and there was such a concentration of dark magic there," Anna concluded. She lifted the silencing spell so the others could speak.

Silence.

More silence.

Finally, Jess broached a question. "Did you bring the robes back? And what about his wand?"

"Yes, we brought the robes back," Colin answered, "as well as readings from the surrounding room and the crib area. We also brought a sample from the doorway where Mr. Dumbledore and the child were when the child repelled the AKs. However, we didn't find Darth Crispy's wand. Everything is documented in our report, and duplicates of our memories are attached, as usual."

"Good, but I think you are leaving out an important piece of information," Jess stated. "Who is this child?"

"Oh, sorry," Colin answered. "His name is Harry Potter, the son of James and Lily Potter."

"James and Lily?" Seth said in surprise. "I knew them in school. I also saw a few weeks ago that Lily Potter had submitted an application into one of the Unspeakable departments focused in charms."

"Yes, well, I'm sorry for your loss," Anna said before moving on. She was not good at handling any kind of emotional or potentially emotional situation, unless it was from inside the other person's mind. There was no time for that now, though.

Seth shrugged, "I didn't know them that well; they were two years below me."

"Well, we have a recommendation," Anna said. "We want to study the Potter child. What he somehow accomplished is not normal, even for a fully grown wizard. We can probably learn a lot from him."

"Of course," Jess answered. "I'm sure all of our research will benefit from studying him, and we might even be able to form a defense against that particular unforgivable curse. If there is nothing else..."

Anna shook her head and no one else had questions.

"Then we are adjourned," Jess said as she stood. "Anna and Colin, come with me to work out details; the rest of you, back to work. Your assignments for this case are on your desks."

There were some groans as Anna and Colin followed Jess out of the conference room, but before long, everyone had reentered real time.

O o O o O

1300 hours, November 1

Jess sat at her desk again, reading the report from Anna and Colin about young Mr. Potter. It was amazing, the things he had done, and him just an infant. She looked forward to meeting him, as well as the legendary Albus Dumbledore. Just as she was about to review the memories they had attached, she felt a light touch on her neck. Jess leapt out of her seat and spun around, wand in hand, only to find herself caught in a warm embrace.

"I missed you," the voice attached to the tall, warm body said with a chuckle.

Oh good, Don was back. Jess smiled, then pushed against him to look up at his face. "I missed you too, Don. Now how did you get in my office?"

"I have my secrets," Don answered.

"No secrets in our department, remember?" Jess said with a smile.

Don shrugged and let go of her. "All right, if you must know, I copied your wand signature and snuck in while invisible when you were in the bathroom earlier."

Jess blinked. "You can do that?"

"Of course," Don answered. "It was something Curt and I developed when I was training for this aspect of my job."

"Grr, that means I'll have to change the lock on my door," Jess said.

"Well, I'm the only one who can break it right now," Don pointed out.

"Curt could," Jess shot back.

"I suppose," Don conceded. He thought for a moment. "I could wipe his memory."

"No, don't do that," Jess said with a smile. "I don't like having mind wiped people working on sensitive information."

Don shrugged but smiled.

"So what happened last night?" Jess asked, wanting an insider's view on things rather than her information gatherers'.

Don frowned and sat in one of the comfy chairs in front of Jess's desk. He wore a long sleeved robe that covered the tattoo he had had to obtain in order to penetrate the Death Eaters. "From what I could tell, none of the Death Eaters that were there knew the importance of the Potter residence." As he spoke, Jess sat in the other chair next to him so that there wasn't a desk between them. "Something was off, though. The Dark Lord wanted something there. He was very proud of one of the Death Eaters for bringing him information about the house's location. Before, when there were raids, wizard or mudblood, we were sent in to kill and leave. This, this was different." Don had a pensive look on his face as he spoke.

"The Dark Lord was originally going to go alone, with just that one Death Eater to guide him. He said we would celebrate on his return, because there would be nothing in his way to power after that night. He had plans to visit another house after the Potters as well, a family named Longbottom. However, at the last minute, he called us through his mark to join him. He told us to kill anyone who left the Potter house that was not him before he went inside. Some of us were joking and talking, at least, until the explosion. We all pulled out our wands, trying to ignore the searing pain in our marks, and waited for the Dark Lord to return. I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to take him out, but instead that old coot Albus Dumbledore ran out the front door holding a baby.

"Then there were several apparation cracks, aurors. About twelve of us, well, not me, but others, shot out AKs at the old man and the kid, but the old man blocked most of them by raising an earth wall. I had placed myself in a position to see the door, and suddenly, the kid threw out his hand and the AKs were reflected back! I barely had time to jump out of the way. I can show you the memory if you want. Everyone started running and apparating, so I thought it prudent to leave as well."

He rolled up his sleeve, showing a faint brown smudge. "This is all that's left of the dark mark I had to take," Don explained. "It hurt like hell at the house, but now I can't feel anything."

"So it's true; he wasn't killed," Jess said with wide eyes.

"I don't think so, but his magic must have been affected to cause the mark to fade," Don answered.

"Our unit has been studying what happened," Jess said. "Anna and Colin talked to aurors, healers, and Albus Dumbledore, and now Anna's at St. Mungo's to hear what Mr. Dumbledore has to say to the press. Why don't we hold your memory until she gets back, and then we can all watch it. If you want, though, we can watch her and Colin's memories of their investigation."

"Yeah, I want to understand all of this," Don answered.

Jess nodded and reached onto her desk to grab the report. Stapled in one corner was a tiny bag containing what were unmistakably memories. Jess carefully opened the bag and poured one of the memories into the small pensive she had ready for this purpose. "Ready?" she asked.

Don nodded and they both placed their fingers into the cup.

The world swirled around them and then became still. Don and Jess, both used to looking at memories in this manner, stayed steady on their feet as they looked around. This memory was obviously Anna's. Her memories always had thoughts from others playing as if in the background. Even if the observer of the memory was not a legilimens, he could hear what Anna heard when she 'peeked' at others' minds. Colin, as well as everyone else who worked in their unit of the Unspeakables, had protections so their thoughts would not just leak out for her to hear, and she generally did not invade her coworkers' minds. Well, at least that Jess knew of.

Jess and Don followed Anna and Colin down a nondescript, white hallway. They could hear random thoughts coming from the rooms that they passed, but nothing concrete.

"This is St. Mungo's," Don stated matter-of-factly. Jess nodded. She too recognized the sterile environment of the hospital.

Anna and Colin finally arrived at the door to an office. The name 'Healer Adam Bridge' was written on the door. Colin knocked.

"Come in," said a voice from inside the office. Colin opened the door for Anna, then stepped in behind her and closed the door.

"Hello," Anna began. "We are from the Unspeakables, a division of the Ministry of Magic devoted to unusual events. Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?"

"Certainly," Healer Bridge answered. "Anything for the Ministry, well, anything legal of course."

"Of course," Anna said with a smile.

They must be here about the Potter boy. The thought came from the healer as he kept his gaze on Anna. A memory of a wand shattering into a picture frame filled Healer Bridge's mind for a brief moment, quickly followed by the startled cry of an infant. Healer Bridge shook his head, as if to rid himself of the memory fragment.

"We heard about the child that reflected killing curses back on attacking Death Eaters," Anna began, her face only showing curiosity, "and we would like to take a look at his medical records, if we may."

"Well," Healer Bridge said, "I can't just give you someone else's records, even if you are from the Ministry. There are forms I have to have, as well as proof that you are who you say you are."

Anna nodded to Colin, who began speaking. At this moment, however, the memory shifted. Instead of the walls of the office, Jess and Don observed mists and what looked like shelves. Anna rarely gave memories of being inside someone's mind, so the information here must be invaluable. The shelves seemed to contain vials of some sort. Jess and Don could vaguely hear Colin asking about Harry's condition from outside the mind. The vials shifted, and one came to the forefront. Jess and Don could feel the pleasure from the part of Anna that was in the healer's mind as the contents of the vial emptied. Inside were Harry's complete medical records from the night before.

In the records were the full details of Harry's forehead and hand. His forehead was fine except for a scratch, but nothing magic the healers tried to do to heal the scratch worked. They finally put a bandage on it, since it was so small. The wound on his hand also did not respond to magic, so the healers cleaned and bandaged the wound. Also in the records were the instructions to keep his hand clean, and away from magic, since there was dark magic residue on both wounds. Another check-up was scheduled for a week later. As a side note, there was a description of a feat of accidental magic from the boy resulting in the destruction of Healer Bridge's wand. Accompanying this was a note on Harry's psychological fear of wands.

The records were put back in the vial and the mind slowly dissolved around them, leaving Colin and Healer Bridge discussing a press conference that would take place soon at St. Mungo's.

The memory faded, and Jess and Don found themselves back in Jess's office. Jess was stunned by what she had seen. Not just the records of the little boy, but of Anna's ability to penetrate the mind. She remembered when Anna had first come into the group, frightened out of her mind by her ability. Apparently, she had come to terms with it. It would be a useful tool, now that Jess knew what Anna was capable of. They would have to talk soon.

Jess looked up at Don, seeing a pensive look on his face. "Next memory?" she suggested.

* * *

Authors' notes:

Please continue to continue to...er...note that questions fuel our writing and make us notice things we might have missed. Continue asking!


	5. Public Fiasco

Disclaimer: Really? We don't own this? Are you sure? Darn, must have been a dream then.

**Part 5: Public Fiasco**

Alexandra Huggins stood behind the makeshift podium in a nameless room at St Mungo's. She was ready to perform the adoption ceremony that, in her opinion, was shoddily and hastily done. Adoptions were rare, but when such a thing happened, it was usually an ostentatious occasion, with many friends and family about. In this case it was the head of the house, the adopter (who happened to be the same in this case), the adoptee, and one witness, the bare minimum for such a rite.

Someone being ushered into the famous and powerful house of Dumbledore should not be presented to the house in this manner. It was outrageous! Especially since the boy being adopted would not only be the sole heir of the house of Dumbledore, but was already a famous celebrity. The Daily Prophet had run a short story about the demise of the most feared wizard in the world at the hands of this small boy, but rather than bring him into the house in open celebration, the sacred event was to be done in near secrecy.

Scandalous.

Alexandra adjusted her prim glasses and began the ceremony. She was not against the actual adoption, just the manner in which it was being carried out. "We gather here to present the house of Dumbledore with an heir. The heir presented this day will give up the name Harry James Potter to become Harry James Wulfric Potter Dumbledore. The heir will be cared for and will undoubtedly bring glory to the Dumbledore name." She looked up from her papers and gestured to the father to be. "The future caregiver of the young heir, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, please step forward."

The most famous wizard of the modern world stepped forward, handing the young boy to the witness, some nurse from the hospital. Couldn't even get a noteworthy witness, it was just some random nurse.

Some Random Nurse!

Usually the witness was the child's godparent, and the great Albus Dumbledore had chosen HER?

Scandalous!

"Do you vow to give this child everything he needs, accepting him as your own blood until he is of age?" Alexandra asked, barely keeping her thoughts from her face.

"Yes," Albus Dumbledore answered.

Simply yes; no speech, no gestures. Just a tiny tear in the corner of his eye and the silver strand of the unbreakable vow connecting his and Alexandra's wands.

"Bring the child, Harry James Potter, forward," Alexandra commanded.

The random nurse holding the boy stepped forward and placed him in Albus Dumbledore's arms.

"Since the child is not of the age of consent, he will be bound to his caregiver until that age is reached. At that time, the oath will be renewed. Now the caregiver, the witness, and I will sign the official document."

She passed the document first to Albus Dumbledore, then to the random nurse, who signed Stephanie Somac in a large-bold-you'd-have-to-be-blind-not-to-see-each-and-every-single-letter signature, then back to herself. She signed her name, and apart from becoming magically binding, the adoption became legal. The child would not lose his place as the heir of the Potter family, but would simply gain the right to be the heir of the Dumbledore family as well.

"Harry James Wulfric Potter Dumbledore, you are now the official heir of the house of Dumbledore. May you live long in happiness and honor." The ceremony was finished, and Alexandra left the room quietly so the new family could celebrate in whatever way they wished. As unorthodox as it was, she was glad to have presided over the adoption of the-boy-who-vanquished-the-dark-lord-and-many-of-his-followers, if the Prophet was to be believed, despite the random nurse.

O o O o O

Alastor took a moment to simply scan the crowd. There were several hundred people, roughly half of them being part of the press from at least a dozen countries. There were people from the ministry, and the Minister was also going to make an appearance. He was not looking forward to all of the camera flashes that were soon going to occur.

_What had Albus been thinking when he agreed to a press conference?_ he wondered.

He was at the corner of the 'stage' the press had recently constructed. He shook his head at it, but he had to admit this was better than allowing the vultures to swarm Dumbledore and the boy in one of the halls of St. Mungo's. That would be a nightmare!

Security was understandably high. He had called over half of all the available aurors out for this event, though personally he would have preferred calling them all, including a few who had entered retirement from up to five years ago. Sadly, that would have been frowned upon.

He looked through the side of his head, his magical eye peering through the center door to find Albus Dumbledore with Harry Potter in his arms.

He gave a nod to St. Mungo's Administrator, telling him Dumbledore and the boy were ready.

Stepping out, the Administrator quickly gathered the crowd's attention.

"Thank you for your patience, it is greatly appreciated. Now, before those you are waiting for come out, I must ask you all to be as quiet as you can, for Headmaster Dumbledore will be holding Harry when he speaks to you." There was a small excited murmur as he said this, but it quickly quieted down. "I am sure every one of you can imagine how stressful things have recently been for young Mr. Potter, and how coming out to see so many faces at once may be intimidating. There's no reason to add to it," he said. "Also, to anyone with a camera, I must kindly ask you not to use the flash. If you do so, you will be detained and **heavily** fined. Upon healer's orders, Mr. Potter is not to be exposed to such sudden bright flashes, due to injuries he suffered a few nights ago.

"Questions may be asked after Albus Dumbledore's statement."

The crowd became very still and quiet, though those with cameras adjusted things accordingly.

The Administrator smiled and gave a slight nod. "Alright then."

With that, the doors behind him opened and out stepped Dumbledore, Harry on his left hip. Dumbledore had placed a blue band-aid over the lightning bolt-shaped cut before going out, deciding the Wizarding World didn't need to gawk at it already. Harry's right hand remained bandaged, and was protectively held against his chest.

The whole place was holding its breath, their eyes focused on the two now before them. Harry quickly shied away, trying to hide himself through means of the layered robes and the long white beard of his guardian. It earned him a few 'awww's.

Harry internally groaned and scowled. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

"Good morning," Dumbledore said with a smile, cameras clinking away, though with no flashes.

The next Daily Prophet would use these photos, which would be historic in itself. For the first time in centuries, the Daily Prophet's front page would be a still photo, for the flash was what made the photograph move.

"I will try to keep this brief, which I try to do with most things, as the students of Hogwarts can attest to, but I think this time warrants some words. . . .

"Lord Voldemort has been temporarily forced away. Let us enjoy this time of peace, but not waste it. Let us rebuild and repair the damage done by Lord Voldemort and his followers, but also what our arrogance, fear, and apathy helped do as well," Dumbledore said, creasing his brow as he quickly made a decision.

There was no going back. He would not stand idle, as he had last time, and allow the Wizarding World to continue down the path to doom. The future would be saved.

"I am sick of what the world has become," Dumbledore stated suddenly after a breath and a long pause, causing most of the crowd to stare or gasp, if not all out gawk in bewilderment.

They had never seen or heard Dumbledore sound so . . . cold.

"I tell you now, if we do not change, something will come that is far worse than what we have just survived. Yes, there will always be evil in the world and suffering, but for an entire society to be so full of fear they cannot even say the name of the one they are fighting against. . . . It should not have come to that.

"But I know why it did," Dumbledore said, his voice the only thing any of them could hear now.

"Our society holds high value in things with very little value, and because of that, we almost fell.

"Blood purity and superiority." Dumbledore nearly spat the words, shocking many, as this was the first time they had ever heard Dumbledore ridicule anything.

"The child beside me is a half-blood, and the wizard defeated by him is as well."

This caused a few eyebrows to rise and whispers to roam, but they quickly cut off, seeing Dumbledore straighten, the child in his arms remarkably quiet and still.

"What very few of you know is who Voldemort once was. What even fewer of you know is that the very thing he proclaimed to his followers and the world, blood purity, is not true of himself.

"He is a half-blood; his real name is Tom Marvolo Riddle, and he was named after his muggle father by his mother before she died soon after giving birth to him.

"Blood has very little to do with ability and nothing to do with importance. There is nothing wrong with being proud of your heritage, pure-blood or not. I myself come from a very old family and am especially proud of it, but when you believe you are above people because of it, that is when you have crossed the line and entered a realm where Voldemort was allowed to thrive.

"Change is coming, whether we want it to or not. Let it be a change where the whole Wizarding World stands as one and declares, 'Never again will we let an evil grip us so. Never again will we cultivate beliefs that allow prejudice and hateful men to flock and hound those they believe to be lower than themselves . . . for we wish to live, to thrive'," Dumbledore said, his eyes bright with power, pictures being taken all the while.

"I will take your questions now."

Harry smiled, quite amused by the reactions of the people before him.

Finally, the press collected themselves enough to begin asking questions.

"Headmaster, how did Harry Potter do what he did? From my sources, he also reflected three killing curses after killing You-Know-Who," a man said.

"Harry didn't kill Voldemort, merely forced him away. As for how Harry did what he did, I don't know, but I do have a feeling it had a bit to do with his parents' love for him. The magic within love is far more powerful than anything else on earth," Dumbledore answered.

"What is going to happen to Mr. Potter now?" another asked.

"He will be with me from now on. Sadly, Sirius Black, who would have gained custody of him, fell in combat against Peter Pettigrew, who betrayed the Potters to Voldemort."

"With you? You are going to raise him?"

"Are you sure you're the best choice? No offense."

"He'll be safest with me and I will prevent him from being pestered by people who don't understand the word 'privacy'," Dumbledore said simply. "He will live with me and I will raise him as my own."

The crowd didn't know what to think about that as they began to mutter and whisper among themselves, and there were several who obviously didn't agree with such an arrangement (it was clear by their expressions), but thankfully Harry decided to play baby.

Harry gurgled playfully, lifting his good hand to touch Dumbledore's now smiling face before suddenly appearing to realize everyone's eyes were on him. He quickly hid his face by Dumbledore's neck as Dumbledore chuckled and comfortingly placed his right hand on the back of his head.

"What were the child's injuries? The Administrator said no camera flashes, why?" yet another asked, deciding to move on.

"He suffered a magic burn on his entire right palm and a cut on his forehead. As for the healers' orders of no sudden flashes, it is due to the magical residue from the curses that has yet to leave his body. It is harmless as long as sudden flares of magic don't come in contact with his skin. The healers are confident this condition will not last long, but we are deciding to be safe about it," he said.

This, of course, was bordering on a lie. Yes, Harry still had magical residue from his encounter with Voldemort and the fight in the front yard, but the main reason for the healers' orders was because of Harry's reaction to sudden displays of magic. They didn't want that to be on the cover of the Prophet.

"What would happen if he did come in contact with something like that?" a voice from the crowd asked, slightly fearfully.

"His magic could react, believing his person is being attacked again," Dumbledore stated, telling the truth as he tightened his hold on Harry, who sighed in contentment. It did not go unnoticed.

"How strong is the lad's magic?" an old man asked curiously.

"I don't believe that is an appropriate question, and to be frank that is nobody's business. I don't see a list out there, for all to see, ranking the magical strength of citizens, so I certainly won't reveal Harry's for the world to scrutinize or talk about," Dumbledore said, Harry once again curiously looking around.

"The true strength of an individual cannot be displayed on a scale anyway, and I have known muggles who were greater than powerful wizards. Power in and of itself can only get you so far, actions are what pave you a path to walk." Dumbledore gave a small sigh before giving a soft sad smile.

"I would apologize for sounding so old and serious, but I don't feel like it. I have kept the majority of my opinions to myself for far too long, believing it was not my place to voice them so openly, but the elderly are here for a reason, which I grudgingly admit includes myself, and though I do not know what might have been, I do know what could be if I remain silent.

"I saw it in the war against Grindelwald, and I am certain if this war had continued for another year, I would have seen it again. A world with very little hope. If we are truly going to make a better future for our children and repair what has occurred this past decade and before, we will need to change," Dumbledore reiterated, hoping to get through to them before shifting topics.

"Harry Potter is just a baby, as you can see, and he will be under my care from now on. My priorities will remain at Hogwarts, raising Harry and teaching the next generation responsible magic.

"Now then, any other questions before Harry and I depart?" Dumbledore asked. The reporters looked at each other, still trying to digest everything they had just heard. "Very well, then. I am sure if you think of any, Healer Bridge will be happy to hear them."

Soon after, before anyone could come up with a question, Harry and Dumbledore disappeared, portkeying away.

O o O o O

Anna watched as Mr. Dumbledore and the child portkeyed away. Dumbledore had taken an interesting tone with this conference. Anna was glad she had not missed this. His stance would undoubtedly provoke several pureblood families, including those in the ministry. Anna knew her family would surely take offence. The Malfoy name was respected in most circles, simply because it was the Malfoy name. The recent death of one of its prominent members caught in the service of the most feared dark wizard of the time would cause some to shy away from other members of the family. However, some would consider that an honor.

If Dumbledore's words were taken to heart by the rest of the wizarding world, the entire structure of their world would change. As of now, most people, most companies, and even the ministry, looked at blood purity and the house a person belonged to in school more than the person's actual qualifications. In Anna's opinion, something that happened when one was eleven should not determine the entire course of their life. As for blood purity, she saw it as important, if only for the connections each family had, but not as important as qualifications. Living in Hufflepuff gave even the most staunch blood purist a new look at how people and power really work.

As for Dumbledore taking care of the little one, Anna was not surprised. The bond she had sensed when they were in the hospital room had only strengthened since then. She was able to sense more of the emotions that were shared between the two. Near the middle of Dumbledore's speech, she had sensed satisfaction toward young Potter, almost as if the boy were acting a part. It was very fleeting, and she wasn't sure she actually got the correct emotion, but still, it was interesting. She filed that information away for later use and focused on the minister, who had just walked onto the platform.

She motioned for silence, and the murmuring crowd quieted, cameramen snapping pictures that now included the flash. Once Mr. Dumbledore and young Potter portkeyed away, the healers had announced that flashes could again be used. Anna closed her eyes and took a few moments to close out the many inner voices she was receiving from the curious and surprised reporters before the minister began speaking. It was an unfortunate side effect of her gift that she could not block out noise from other wizards and witches if she was trying to listen to something else. Only when she was actually in another person's mind did the noise cease completely. Once she had the noise under control, in the background so to speak, she opened her eyes and focused on the current minister of magic.

Minister Bagnold was, as far as Anna could tell, a good individual. She believed in the power of family and the advancement of wizarding society. She was not against muggles or half-bloods in society, and in fact encouraged them. However, she still held a great amount of respect for established families. She was against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named because of his adherence to magic classified as dark and his disruption of a progressing society.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and members of the press," Minister Millicent Bagnold began, "Albus Dumbledore has given us much to think about. While I do not know where he received his knowledge about You-Know-Who, I say we should look to him as the expert in this situation. While his declarations are radical, they stem from his experiences and knowledge.

"As for the child's situation, please remember that both he and Headmaster Dumbledore have been through much trauma. They should be given time to rest and recuperate. Give them space and privacy. I am sure he will be able to answer questions with less abruptness if he is simply allowed to be left alone."

Anna could sense annoyance with Dumbledore's attitude from the minister. She had apparently been hoping that the old man would be more gentle and portray the persona everyone expected of him.

The minister continued. "The child's condition is rightly kept secret. Why, if the child's enemies knew all of his strengths and weaknesses, the child could be in real danger. Thank you for your consideration, and I will answer any questions you now have."

A few moments of silence followed her abrupt ending. Anna drew a blank on questions, but she didn't really want to draw attention to herself anyway.

Finally a woman asked, "What are your thoughts on Harry's adoption by Albus Dumbledore?"

"At this point, the boy has done more than any infant has in the realm of magic. I think placing him with a powerful wizard who is firmly on the side of light was a good decision. He will be able to be trained and guided to use his magic to further wizardkind."

Anna picked up a stray thought from the minister that she was planning on seeing Harry trained for her own agenda. Anna figured Dumbledore had his own plans for the boy, but would let the minister build her castles of air. It wasn't her place to say anything.

"Will Albus Dumbledore remain headmaster at Hogwarts while he is caring for young Potter?" asked a young man.

"As far as I know, he will," Minister Bagnold answered. "If the pressures of running Hogwarts interfere with raising the child, I am sure he will step down."

Anna realized the minister had no idea what Dumbledore was planning to do. She liked Dumbledore's style. The left side of her mouth started creeping up, but she was concentrating too much on listening to the minister to raise the other side for a full smile.

"We have time for one more question," Minister Bagnold stated. She gestured to another woman.

"Will the ministry be keeping tabs on the Potter child?" she asked.

"Yes, although not obtrusively," Bagnold answered. "We want to make sure he is brought up in the best environment possible. Understand that his well being is our first concern. Thank you very much for attending today, but I have other matters I must attend to." The minister stepped down and left the room, presumably to portkey or apparate.

_'First concern,' my ass,_ Anna thought. She knew the minister's first concern was the progression of the wizarding world toward the light side of magic, next was her term of office. Somewhere behind that was the well being of one child. Anna moved away from the crowd and observed the reporters talking, trying to question the staff of St Mungo's, and trading thoughts on what just occurred. Most of them fell into two categories: ecstatic about the denouncement of blood or wary about the announcement but following it for now because it was given by someone who was respected. A very few were outraged. It was probably a good representation of what the whole wizarding community would feel when this story was published in various newspapers. The noise level, both physical and mental, was rising, so Anna found a secluded corner and apparated back to work.

O o O o O

Harry looked up, his eyes quickly coming to rest on the castle, his first and only true home, well, home he could remember.

Dumbledore sighed, pausing for a moment so they could just gaze at it.

"I've never thought I would miss a place so much," he whispered, both of them feeling the other completely agree. "We will eat lunch in my quarters, create your room, and then, depending on how we feel, go to the Great Hall for dinner."

Harry nodded, Dumbledore walking again, but not before casting a strong notice-me-not charm on them. School was still in session, despite lessons currently being on hold due to celebrating Voldemort's demise.

"Well, first things first, Harry. You need a nursery," Dumbledore said as the gargoyle moved aside. "Then we, or rather I, will begin preparations to improve the wards while we eat. I am sure you would agree a complete overhaul of the wards would be beneficial. I also doubt anyone would raise an eyebrow to it, considering you will be living here from now on."

Harry nodded in agreement.

O o O o O

"Do you think he'll come for dinner?" a Gryffindor asked, sitting down at a library table.

"I don't know. McGonagall seemed to imply he needed a great deal of rest," a Ravenclaw said.

"Do you really think that baby did all of what they're saying?"

"Got to have. It's all over the Daily Prophet, and my father works at the Ministry. He owled me and told me it's true."

"Geez," a Ravenclaw girl said, shaking her head sadly.

"What?"

"To have killed so young. I mean, I know those men were bad, but a life is a life."

"Tell that to my dead brother," a Gryffindor grumbled. "I don't care how they were killed, only that they were, and if a baby did it, good; more power to the lad. The only thing I wish is to have seen it."

Everyone stopped talking at that and looked down at the table or suddenly found their hands fascinating.

"Hey, can I read that article again?" a Ravenclaw asked after a moment, deciding there had been a long enough pause for it to be safe to ask.

"Sure."

The other boy slid the paper over, a still photo of two individuals many were claiming to be, or rather would be, the two most powerful wizards in the world. Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter.

Harry was trying to hide against Dumbledore's beard and robes, but at the same time trying to get a good look at the crowd, while Dumbledore held him protectively against himself. The picture, though completely unmoving, was anything but. Harry's wrapped hand was quite visible, despite being white and resting against Dumbledore's beard. And the bandage taped on the middle of his forehead was especially bold, drawing more focus to his eyes, which were shimmering emerald green, radiating innocence. And then, stunningly juxtaposing Harry's eyes were Dumbledore's own, not far above, blazing with a fierce blue, undying purpose.

**The Boy-Who-Lived Departs St. Mungo's with Greatest Wizard of our Age**

Albus Dumbledore, Supreme Mugwump of the Wizengamot, Order of Merlin First Class, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived and child many are now calling 'the Next Merlin', were allowed to leave St. Mungo's earlier today.

In a truly historic moment, Albus Dumbledore gave a speech like no other. His words will no doubt be recalled throughout the coming centuries.

Coming out from the front doors of St. Mungo's with young Mr. Potter on one hip, an arm protectively, and many would say lovingly, held around the amazing infant, Albus Dumbledore shared a few words.

Starting off in a tone this reporter doubts many would have ever thought possible from the generally chipper leader, Dumbledore stated, "I am sick of what the world has become," before giving a warning like no other. "I tell you now, if we do not change, something will come that is far worse than what we have just survived."

This, understandably, surprised the crowd, but it seemed Dumbledore was just getting started. He revealed You-Know-Who's true lineage, followed by his name.

"He is a half-blood; his real name is Tom Marvolo Riddle, and he was named after his muggle father by his mother before she died soon after giving birth to him."

And barely pausing, he reiterated a few of his words stated previously.

"Blood has very little to do with ability and nothing to do with importance. . . . When you believe you are above people because of it, that is when you have crossed the line and entered a realm where [You-Know-Who] was allowed to thrive.

"Change is coming, whether we want it to or not. Let it be a change where the whole Wizarding World stands as one and declares, 'Never again will we let an evil grip us so. Never again will we cultivate beliefs that allow prejudice and hateful men to flock and hound those they believe to be lower than themselves . . . for we wish to live, to thrive'."

Ending with such words, he offered to answer questions, his responses surprisingly enlightening.

According to Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter did not kill You-Know-Who, but forced him away temporarily, and though not completely certain of how baby Potter was able to do what he did Halloween night, Dumbledore stated, "The magic within love is far more powerful than anything else on earth." He suggested the love the Potter's had for their son was involved, but this reporter, as well as the general public I am sure, doubts this can explain everything.

Then when asked what will be happening to baby Potter now, Dumbledore declared that Harry Potter will be staying with him from now on!

"He'll be safest with me," he stated. "He will live with me and I will raise him as my own."

This is most unusual, but as Dumbledore pointed out, those who would have gained custody of young Potter are unable to do so. Therefore, believing he is the best choice, he has taken it upon himself to claim the child. After seeing recent interactions between the two, this reporter feels Potter is in capable hands, after all, this is Albus Dumbledore, who better to raise the child who may well become the next Merlin?

After looking into some legal documents recently filed in the Ministry's Official Legal Adoption Center (MOLAC), this reporter has found that Albus Dumbledore has officially been named Harry Potter's guardian, and Harry Potter has been named heir of the respected Dumbledore line.

It is clear Albus Dumbledore is taking his adoption of Harry Potter very seriously, even giving the lad his middle and last name.

Young H.J.W.P. Dumbledore suffered a severe magic burn to his entire right palm and a cut to his forehead, which according to some healers interviewed looks "just like a lightning bolt." During the press conference, a bandage was on both of young H.J.W.P. Dumbledore's wounds. However, this was not the only consequence of Halloween night.

Before Dumbledore and his new charge came out, the Administrator warned against camera flashes, declaring a heavy fine would follow if used. When asked why this was, Dumbledore replied, ". . . it is due to the magical residue from the curses that has yet to leave [Harry Potter's] body. It is harmless as long as sudden flares of magic don't come in contact with his skin. The healers are confident this condition will not last long, but we are deciding to be safe about it."

When asked what would happen if baby Dumbledore did encounter a flare of magic, Albus Dumbledore stated, "his magic could react, believing his person is being attacked again."

As he said this, it was clear how worried he was about this. Many present later said Dumbledore's posture shifted, bringing his heir closer to himself. As this reporter was present, I must also add that it was rather touching, while at the same time alarming. What concerns Albus Dumbledore should concern us all.

Yet another example of Dumbledore's protectiveness for his charge came soon after.

When someone from the crowd asked the strength of Harry Potter's magic, Dumbledore firmly replied, "I don't believe that is an appropriate question, and to be frank that is nobody's business. I don't see a list out there, for all to see, ranking the magical strength of citizens, so I certainly won't reveal Harry's for the world to scrutinize or talk about."

Clearly, Albus Dumbledore will be keeping his new heir away from prying eyes.

After Dumbledore's radical speech, the Minister of Magic, esteemed Millicent Bagnold, stepped to the makeshift platform to elaborate. She agreed with Dumbledore that H.J.W.P. Dumbledore should be kept out of the public eye. She gave her word that the Ministry of Magic will be keeping tabs on the boy, making sure he remains on the side of Light. "He will be able to be trained and guided," she stated.

When asked if Dumbledore was the best choice to raise the child, she answered, "I think placing him with a powerful wizard who is firmly on the side of Light was a good decision." She refused to go into more detail as to H.J.W.P. Dumbledore's injuries, stating that, "If the child's enemies knew all of his strengths and weaknesses, the child could be in real danger."

She also directed the public not to bother the Dumbledores as they recover from their ordeal. "They should be given time to rest and recuperate. Give them space and privacy. I am sure he will be able to answer questions with less abruptness if he is simply allowed to be left alone."

Hopefully, with time, the public can receive the answers they want so desperately about 'the Next Merlin.'

_For full transcripts of both Albus Dumbledore's and Minister Millicent __Bagnold__'s speeches, see page 3._

_For more pictures of Harry James Wulfric Potter Dumbledore, see page 5._

* * *

Authors' notes:

Please note that questions fuel our writing and make us notice things we might have missed, so if you have a question, feel free to ask!

Danke.

P.S. We noticed a lot of people complaining about the death of Sirius, but no one said anything about Pettigrew. Where's the love? :P

Correction: We mistakingly named the Minister. This has now been fixed.


	6. Back to Living

Disclaimer: Really? We don't own this? Are you sure? Darn, must have been a dream then.

**Part 6: Back to Living**

"Harry, you're going to get tired," Dumbledore admonished as Harry wiggled free from his arms, making him have to allow Harry to place his little feet on the floor. Dumbledore sighed. "Very well, Harry, but let me first transfigure some slippers for you at least."

Dumbledore did just that, Harry quickly raising an eyebrow at him when he found lion slippers on his feet.

"First thing that popped into my mind," Dumbledore shrugged. Harry raised his good hand, deciding it best for him to be grateful he wasn't wearing lemon drops or something as Dumbledore's hand wrapped around his.

Harry and Dumbledore left the office, Harry utterly ecstatic about moving his feet and walking. Being carried around or stuck in a crib could make anyone feel confined, trapped, cornered, restricted, ensnared, limited, weak, helpless . . . and so many other things Harry didn't want to think about at the moment.

_Ahhhh, hard floor beneath heels and toes_, he thought, unknowingly giving an adorable coo that made Dumbledore's eyes twinkle. Harry suddenly felt amusement from the old man, and he quickly realized he was the source.

Harry couldn't really blame him; he could only imagine how pathetic he looked, being so happy about _walking_. Harry decided to blame it on his infant self wanting to explore, and not his 25 year old self wanting some independence back. Yeah, it was all the infant's fault.

Well, since he was stuck as a baby until he grew up enough to be a 'big boy', might as well have some fun. Slipping his hand free from Dumbledore's, he hurried forward as quickly as he could, waddling and wobbling as he went.

"Harry, slow down, you're going to get us both into trouble," Dumbledore said, though the tone in his voice told Harry he was enjoying the moment in the deserted hall as much as he was and didn't really care about whatever trouble it might mean.

Harry giggled, forcing his legs to obey as he dashed to a suit of armor to try to hide behind it.

It was an odd feeling. Part of him thought this was ridiculous, hiding from his old friend and mentor who had obviously just seen him move behind the armor, but then another part of him was amped, wondering if 'A'bus' would catch him and tickle him.

Like his daddy and mummy did.

But they were dead. They'd never be able to play with him again. Hug or kiss him, play peek-a-boo, chase him around when he was flying on the child's broom his dad had gotten him while his mum was panicking, saying something like, 'James, I swear, if he gets hurt!'

In his mind's eye, Harry could suddenly see his dad turn to his mum with a smile before saying, 'Oh chill woman, he'll be fine. I'll always be here to catch him.'

And with that, something snapped.

"Da-da!" He broke down into tears, suddenly feeling as if something very important, so utterly beloved of his, had been ripped away from him, and that he had only now just realized it.

"Harry!"

He felt arms scoop him up, quickly trying to comfort him, but he felt nothing but loss, fear, hurt, and, from the older part of himself, deep anger.

"Shh, Harry . . . shh. I'm here, I'm here." Dumbledore knew better than to say it was alright, or that everything was okay, because everything was **not **okay. After years of war, they had both learned saying such nonsense was ludicrous and downright infuriating.

Harry, energy quickly draining from him, put his head down, brushing against the side of Dumbledore's face to quickly find that he was not the only one with tears. Briefly opening his eyes, he saw a tear follow a thin trail into the large white beard.

"M'daddy's de'd," Harry whispered.

"I know, Harry. I know," he said, just as softly.

"Albus?!"

Dumbledore quickly turned to find Flitwick staring at them with wide eyes.

"Filius," Dumbledore managed, Harry now fairly calm, though currently hiccupping.

"Is everything alright? I heard you shout and then crying," he said hesitantly, looking from Dumbledore to Harry and back again.

Dumbledore took a moment to collect his thoughts, coming up with a few excuses but deciding only one would be believable.

"We were playing and he went to hide behind there; he was giggling and everything before he suddenly started calling for his dad. I'm not sure why he started crying though," Dumbledore said, sticking to the truth.

"Are you both alright?" he asked, actually looking at Dumbledore with an expression Dumbledore had never seen aimed at him before.

Worry?

"Yes. . . . Yes, we're both alright," he said, rubbing Harry's back.

"Are you two planning on having dinner in the Great Hall tonight?" Flitwick asked, hoping a distraction was the best course of action as part of him was quite concerned at finding his employer actually in tears and holding a distraught infant.

He may be short, but he wasn't blind, and he was definitely smart enough to deduce that when someone had a tear track going into their beard it meant tears had made it. He was a Ravenclaw for Merlin's sake!

"We had been planning on it, though . . ." Dumbledore began.

"Albus, I'm sure what both of you need is a good, large meal. And I'm sure Harry will love all the cooing from Minerva and our other female coworkers," Flitwick said, leaning forward slightly to get a better look at Harry, who was internally battling with himself from either rolling his eyes or saying something rude about cooing females (not that anyone would understand any said words).

Dumbledore looked at Harry, who casually looked back.

"Well, Harry, shall we?" he asked.

Flitwick wondered if Dumbledore was actually expecting a response, but then, this was Albus Dumbledore, anything was possible.

Well, Dumbledore must have gotten some sort of response, because he looked back down to Flitwick and said, "We'll be there in a few minutes. Feel free to tell Minerva and the others to save a spot for Harry. He will be sitting between me and Minerva."

O o O o O

Anna gave herself a quick once-over to insure that she was presentable for her visit. Keeping family ties were important, and she did not want a little thing like a bunched up robe to get in the way of maintaining them. Dakota had already told her she looked fine, but she looked anyway. Finally satisfied, she made sure she was missing nothing and tossed a bit of floo powder into the fireplace.

"Malfoy Manor," she stated, holding in a smirk. Lucius always was unimaginative on this sort of thing.

"Who calls my mistress?" a little house elf asked. Good, Narcissa was smart to screen her calls.

"Anna Malfoy," Anna answered. "Tell your mistress I just want to speak to her."

The elf nodded and disappeared from the fire. A few moments later, Narcissa was at the fireplace. She was dressed comfortably but with a style that showed she was in no need of money. Also good. "Ah, come in, Anna," she said as she gestured to her receiving room.

Anna stepped through the fire and dusted her robe. Some people could step through without getting a bit of soot on them, but it never worked that way for Anna. At least she didn't fall on her face anymore. Hours of practice had cured that. "I apologize for bringing soot into your home," Anna said by way of formal greeting.

Narcissa walked toward her with her arms open and a smile. Anna took that as a cue to give her a small kiss on her cheek. This was a customary Malfoy greeting that was used only in the family. The kiss showed that you trusted the person you were greeting and considered them your closest family. Narcissa knew the custom and returned the kiss. "Would you like some tea?" she offered.

"Yes, thank you," Anna answered. She followed Narcissa from the receiving room to the family dining room. As it was near tea time, Draco was in his high chair, a biscuit in hand. Narcissa snapped and ordered a house elf to bring another place setting for the tea, and the little elf popped away to fetch it. Anna noticed the elf was wearing a black pillowcase, presumably in honor of Lucius.

"How have you been feeling?" Anna asked tentatively as she sat at the table. Although Lucius had been her cousin, and she already missed him, Narcissa had to be hit much worse by his death.

"Just fine, thank you," Narcissa answered with a smile. However, Anna knew she was not just fine. Even without her ability to sense thoughts, she could tell. "Lucius had a lot of money put away. With that as well as the legacy from the Blacks that I received, little Draco and I will do fine."

All right, time to drop the formalities. After all, Anna was a Hufflepuff, not a Slytherin. "Narcissa, you're talking to me. Lying is not an option. I care about you and want to be here for you." Although Narcissa did not know the full extent of Anna's abilities, she did know that Anna was notoriously hard to fool.

Narcissa looked down, and Anna could see she was struggling to maintain the composure that everyone else expected from her. "How am I supposed to feel?" she finally answered quietly.

"I don't know," Anna answered. "I've never even had a husband." Oops, that was probably not the best thing to say. Despite that, Narcissa looked up and smiled slightly.

Anna could feel Narcissa debating with herself, and she gave her time to sort things out. Finally, Narcissa answered, "Honestly, I feel a bit lost. All I can think of are the years lost and the other children we might have had. I know the way he died put a blot on our name, but even so, I know he was proud of what he was doing. I think if people would just stop interrupting us and give me a chance to mourn without people standing over me and judging, I would be better."

"Need a bodyguard for a few days?" Anna asked. She was fully prepared for such a thing. "I can babysit too."

"No, I would much rather stay with my son," Narcissa answered. "I will not let him meet the same fate Lucius did. Now that the firecalls have slowed down, I think we can get by with shutting it off for a day."

"Good, because you need to take the time to mourn," Anna answered. "In fact, if you want me to leave..."

"No, not yet," Narcissa said. "You are the first person to truly care about my feelings. Everyone else who has come by has given stupid platitudes or asked where Lucius' money is."

"Well, the hat did put me in Hufflepuff," Anna stated uncomfortably.

"I'll remember that when Draco is old enough for school. Hufflepuff produces a worthy person occasionally."

"Gee, thanks," Anna said sarcastically.

Draco started to cry, upset that he was not the center of attention. The biscuit he had been gnawing on was now on the floor.

"What, you want me to leave?" Anna said to him as she picked him up. With the shift of attention, Draco stopped his tears and cooed.

"An'anna," he said as he reached for Anna's hair.

"Nope, that's why I cut it," Anna said with a laugh. She turned back to Narcissa. "Really, if you ever need someone to watch Draco, I'd love to. My flat was tightly warded by a friend of mine in the Unspeakables' department."

"I appreciate the offer," Narcissa said as she reached for a now squirmy Draco. "And come by any time."

"Yeah, if you ever want to talk, I'm available," Anna said. She began walking to the receiving room. Narcissa followed. "Thank you very much for your hospitality." Anna switched back to the more formal language.

"You are welcome in my household," Narcissa answered.

With a smile and a wave, Anna threw some powder into the fire and said, "Throck's bar and grill," the name she and Dakota had come up with for their shared flat.

Family should stick together.

O o O o O

The Great Hall was filled with chatter, the students oblivious to the extra foot between the headmaster's chair and his deputy's.

"Ready, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, standing in the side room that linked with the Great Hall.

Harry looked up, once again having insisted on walking. Dumbledore couldn't deny him, but insisted on having him walk by his left side to be out of view. No reason to attract stares sooner than necessary. Harry quickly agreed.

They entered, ignoring the sudden silence that had fallen within the Great Hall. All of the Professors and the students had turned to them, many straining to see a glimpse of the child holding Dumbledore's hand.

Coming to the table, Dumbledore picked Harry up, pulled out a wand as he whispered something to Harry, before conjuring a high chair. McGonagall had a knowing look, quickly assuming Dumbledore had given Harry a heads up before using his wand.

After setting Harry in the chair, all of the students staring expectantly, Dumbledore moved in front of his chair and faced them. Harry grabbed a spoon by his plate with his good left hand, looking eager for food as he happily raised his face up to Dumbledore.

"Hakuna matata," Dumbledore stated, before clapping his hands together and separating them, food appearing on the tables.

"A tuna muh, what-what?" a Gryffindor asked as everyone slowly began eating, wondering if Dumbledore would say something a bit more . . . well, more, after they had eaten.

Dumbledore didn't seem to notice the odd and curious looks he and his charge were getting as he placed a bib on Harry before noticing the spoon in Harry's hand.

"Now, Harry, I don't think Minerva would appreciate flying food at this moment," he said with a smile, taking hold of the tightly gripped spoon in Harry's hand.

"Mine," Harry stated, not relinquishing it.

"Yes, Harry, it is your spoon, but you're too little. You need help," Dumbledore said gently, feeling pride and shame rippling off of Harry.

"Do you wish me to feed him, Albus?" McGonagall asked, taking notice of the current difficulty.

Upon hearing that, and imagining his former/future head of house doing such a thing, Harry practically shoved the spoon toward Dumbledore and opened his mouth.

"No, Minerva, I've got it," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling.

Harry would rather Dumbledore do things for him than anyone else. Dumbledore would treat him like a baby, sure, but at least he wouldn't do any annoying baby noises or make weird faces at him.

"So, goblin-cart or train?" Dumbledore asked. "Though, I recall my mother told me I was partial to dragons, my mouth evidently the cave or something. We'll try dragons this time, alright?"

Harry could only stare at him, his mouth still slightly open.

Well, at least Dumbledore knew there was an adult somewhere under all of the baby fat and poked fun at himself before doing anything particularly humiliating.

Like spoon-feeding him.

"Here comes the dragon!" Dumbledore said, just loud enough for those near him to hear. Flitwick smiled, while McGonagall hid her grin behind her hand.

Harry decided that even though he was a baby, Dumbledore was definitely more child-like, though. . . .

Harry opened his mouth, chomping down on the mouthful and quickly finding himself playing along with the 'spoonful-dragon' game despite his internal struggle. Not long after the spoon-feeding was over, Dumbledore allowed him to eat finger food, which gave Dumbledore time to eat his own food.

The house elves had no doubt learned Harry would be taking part in this meal, for there were animal crackers and animal-shaped chicken nuggets.

"Grrrr," Harry said, taking hold of a bear and marching him across his plate.

Harry then decided to have some fun and lined up all of his animals, separating them by carnivore and herbivore before having them attack each other, or rather, one chasing while the others fled.

"Grrrr, grrr, GRR!!" he said, so completely absorbed in his animal game he didn't notice how most of the professors were watching him with adoring smiles and how the females able to see and hear what he was doing were 'aww'-ing and saying things like, "Isn't that the most cutest thing?" and "I could just eat him up!"

Chomp!

Harry ate the bear, before grabbing a turtle.

_What sound does a turtle make?_ Harry wondered, looking at it in confusion, which made many of the adults chuckle. _Oh well, I'll just eat this one._

Before he knew it, dinner was over, and he was so full he didn't even care about dessert, not that that stopped Dumbledore from putting a pile of chocolate pudding before him, ignoring the disapproving look from McGonagall.

Harry inwardly smirked, sticking his left hand right into it, relishing the feeling of cool pudding ooze between his little fingers. He kept his bandaged hand in his lap, not wanting anyone to stare. He looked up with an adorable grin at Dumbledore, who couldn't find it in his heart to scold him as he pulled Harry's hand away from the pudding and cast a wandless scourgify.

Finally, it was all over, with a fairly minimal cooing female session, making Dumbledore stand up.

He didn't even need to lift his hands for silence; everyone's eyes were on him.

"I would first like to thank all of you for your patience, and will thank you in advance for your understanding," he said with a grandfatherly smile. "I am sure all of you are very curious about recent events as well as about Harry. So, in case you are wondering, let me clarify a few things. Yes, Harry will be staying with me at Hogwarts from now on, and yes, I will continue to be your Headmaster. I am confident I will be able to act both as guardian for Harry and Headmaster for all of you. If I was not, I would have retired the moment I left St. Mungo's," he said simply.

"I can see that, despite having a delicious and filling meal, you all desire to hear more. Ah, the curiosity of youth. . . ."

With that, Dumbledore turned and picked up a now dozing Harry from the high chair, bib, crumbs, bandages and all.

"You all will be seeing him often, so let's just get the staring contests over right now, shall we?" He wasn't mad or accusing, just stating it in a way that made it clear he understood their interest and had expected it, but wouldn't feel the same way forever.

He set Harry's feet down just behind his empty plate.

Thankfully, they had discussed how they would be 'presenting' him earlier, so this didn't take Harry by surprise, though that didn't mean Harry was leaping for joy over his current situation.

"Harry, I'd like to introduce to you the students of Hogwarts, the future of the Wizarding World," Dumbledore said with joyful pride, placing his hands on the sides of Harry's little arms. "Students, I'd like you to meet Harry James Wulfric Potter Dumbledore, my adopted son and heir."

Harry stared down at the students with big, wide eyes, making all of the girls melt.

Harry idly wondered if any of them would begin saying, "Aww… aww, I'm melting, I'm meeeeelting! Oh what a world, what a world!"

Dumbledore caught the sudden wave of amusement, but was only able to get a vague idea why. He smiled.

"Now then, I believe it is time we all dash off to bed. Harry, say goodnight," he said.

"Nie-nite," Harry slurred.

Fortunately, Dumbledore scooped him up soon after, muffling the responses from the general student population. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to be babied as he felt Dumbledore's hand attempt to tame some of his unruly hair.

"Let's get you to bed, shall we?" Dumbledore whispered, leaving the Great Hall ahead of everyone else.

O o O o O

"Who would have thought Dumbledore would be so good with babies?" a third year boy said.

A group of Ravenclaws were in their common room, not yet heading to bed.

"Well, he is a headmaster of a school, you know," another said sarcastically.

"Yeah, but we're not babies," another said.

"Could have fooled me."

"…"

"Anyway, I'm just saying I'm a little surprised is all."

"What's so surprising? From what I saw, Harry is a good baby, no trouble at all. Now, if he was like one of those Weasley twins . . . let's just say I would be worried. I babysat for them once. Notice how I said 'once'. That mother is either a saint or insane."

O o O o O

Curt Bishop stood in the front of the conference room, ready to present his analysis. The R.D.H.P.I.T. had been studying the data gathered from the Potter case almost exclusively. They had given up their pet projects for the last few days in order to figure this out. Everyone had their own theories and ideas, but they had all given them to Curt to analyze. That is what Curt did best.

"You've all seen Don's memory, so I won't show it again, but there is something you should see," Curt began. He turned on a machine Colin and Seth had invented to project memories onto a blank wall. It worked well with pictures too. Apparently, they modeled it after some muggle invention.

A still picture projected on the wall behind Curt. It was a close up of Harry Potter at the Potter family house. Dumbledore was holding him and had just raised a wall of earth. The expression on the baby's face was one of determination an infant should not be able to express. The child's hand was straight out as green streaks of killing curses flew toward him.

"As you know, this is Harry Potter, the boy who supposedly defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," Curt rolled his eyes as he said the long, silly name. "Watch his hand." He waved his wand and the memory went forward slowly, centered on Potter.

Curt had seen this many times already, but it was still enthralling none the less. First, one curse hit the lad's palm, then it was gone, leaving his hand with a greenish glow. The next two hit one right after another, making the lad's hand glow even more. Finally, and with a change in expression that clearly said, 'I will not die here!' the curses were reflected in a cone from his hand. The emanation of the cone threw the boy back some, but strangely, he seemed to be in charge. The memory clip ended.

"This was the most interesting data to analyze for me, and I watched it about a dozen times," Curt continued, speaking to the speechless unspeakables. "That's why I'm starting with the AKs. They not only hit the boy, they were absorbed into his skin. While I cannot see what happened inside him, it seems that his magic morphed the curses into a killing cone. It even seems that he knew what would happen and did this on purpose."

Curt paused for a moment while he cued up pictures of the child's injuries. The first picture was Harry's hand from Colin's memory. His hand had a web of white lines over the palm, and everything that was not white was dark red and blotchy. "Anna and Colin gave me their observations of the kid's hand and forehead. This is an obvious magic burn, which Dakota knows a lot about." He chuckled. "Anyway, the burn was caused by the AK cone, not the original AKs. It only appeared on his hand after he reflected the magic back. So really, it's a burn that originated from under his skin. From its pattern, I'd say the AKs were pooled just under the surface of his skin before they were sent back.

"This is different from the way an AK normally acts," Curt explained, even though half of them already knew how AKs worked. "Usually an AK goes straight for the magical core, leaving no marks. Even muggles have a small core, otherwise they'd be dead, so an AK can affect them too. However, the AKs pooling in the kid's hand caused the magic to burn him, like a higher concentration of acid will burn where a small concentration will just be an annoyance." There were some blank stares at that, although he figured they followed the idea if not the illustration. "Actually, the burn was probably a combination of whatever magic he used to reflect the AKs and the AKs themselves, but I don't know for sure. Any questions yet?"

"Any clue as to what kind of magic it was?" Dakota asked.

"I have no idea," Curt answered. "That's not really my area of expertise. Probably Jess, Colin, or Seth would know." He looked to them.

"I can't really tell if it's wild magic since it's someone else's memory," Jess answered with a shrug. "When he comes here for tests, I'll see how he reacts to magic, and I'll have a better idea."

"Yeah, I don't know," Seth answered. "When we do the tests, I'll keep records and compare the numbers and stuff, but right now, I have no idea."

"I don't recognize it at all," Colin answered. "With the tests, I'll do some stuff with some stuff and observe." He grinned and chuckled.

No other questions were asked, so Curt went on to the next most interesting part. "Moving on, there's not very much information on what happened while Don was outside and the kid and Dumbledore were inside. From the samples that were taken later and the info from the kid's forehead scar, I learned that he had reflected yet another AK inside. It's starting to look like he has an immunity to them somehow. I wouldn't recommend casting AKs at him or anything, but that's all I can make out of it.

"However, as you know, the dark wizard guy didn't leave his body behind, just a pool of dark magic. I'm kind of thinking he used a ritual beforehand that caused whatever happened to happen. The magic wasn't typical of a single spell. I don't know what kind of ritual he performed, though." Curt shrugged. He knew a little bit about dark rituals. One did not grow up in Slytherin and know nothing of them, but rituals had never been of real interest to him.

"What kind of ritual could make you disappear but not die?" Dakota asked incredulously.

"Oh, you'd be surprised," Don answered.

"Care to elaborate?" Jess asked.

"Well, there are several rituals that can prevent or delay death," Don answered. "The problem is that I can't think of any that would work against an AK. It's designed to kill no matter what magical protections the person has."

"Any specifics?" Seth asked.

"The first one that comes to mind is vampirism," Don answered. "But I don't know if that would guard against an AK."

"Right, well we can start research on other dark rituals," Curt said. "I don't have anything else, but when the kid comes in, I'd like to see him be tested."

"I think everyone does," Jess said as she gestured to an empty seat at the table. Curt sat down, turning off the projecting machine. "I will make sure to arrange times for everyone to observe. We don't want to scare him with too many people, though. It seems he has a fear of wands, and I don't want to scare him into doing something dangerous to himself or us.

"We can continue studying You-Know-Who's disappearance, but I think we should wait to discuss theories on why Harry survived until after we study him. Otherwise we will be trying to fit the data to a theory rather than studying what is given."

The other unspeakables shrugged or muttered assent.

"Now, when do you think would be a good day for us to have him?" Jess asked.

"Well, I'm guessing everyone else has funerals to go to this week," Anna said. "I'm going to one on Thursday."

"I have one Wednesday, er, tomorrow," Jess put in.

"Yeah, I have a few tomorrow and another Thursday," Don said.

"Tomorrow," Curt said.

"Well, then is Friday all right with everyone?" Jess asked.

"We might actually want to wait until Saturday, since Dumbledore has a school to run," David suggested.

"Oh, good point," Jess agreed. "Saturday then? Is that all right?"

Agreement ran around the table.

"The Potter's funeral is tomorrow, so when is the funeral you're going to on Thursday, Anna?" Jess asked.

"It's at sunset," Anna answered.

"Then in the morning on Thursday, you and I will contact Albus Dumbledore and make sure Saturday is all right with him."

"That works for me," Anna said.

"Any other business?" Jess asked.

"I think we should take away David's gun," Seth said.

"I don't know," Anna said with a smirk. "He never shoots me, and his gun makes him happy."

"Yeah, you don't want me sad, right?" David said with a mock sad face.

"Maybe we could put up some targets or something," Seth offered. "I'm tired of being the only one who gets shot."

"I could shoot other people," David offered.

The room broke into an uproar, and Jess tried to restore order, but no one would listen. People complained about David's gun and started ranting about other people in the office. Curt began gathering his things and shook his head. Curt knew that by the end of the meeting, few would even remember what started the fight, much less that David had anything to do with it. Nothing would happen to David or his gun.

Nothing bad ever happened to David.

* * *

Authors' note: Please note that questions fuel our writing and make us notice things we might have missed, so if you have a question, feel free to ask!

Danke.


	7. Preparation

Disclaimer: Really? We don't own this? Are you sure? Darn, must have been a dream then.

**Questions Concerning:**

_Time jump in future part_: We will have a forward leap in time, but not any time soon. There are still a number of things that need to be covered before we skim/skip over a few years.

* * *

**Part 7: Preparation**

Harry was sitting on the floor a few feet beside Dumbledore's chair on a thick blanket.

Dumbledore looked down from his work and smiled at Harry, who smiled back.

Dumbledore was currently working out the calculations and best method to repair and add to the wards around Hogwarts. It would be a delicate process, not to mention time consuming and very tiring to do, hence why they had not been improved in awhile. However, if anyone could do it, it would be Dumbledore.

Dumbledore and Harry had 'discussed' what they should do with Voldemort's wand, since Dumbledore had quickly realized the wand was still in one of his robe's pockets. After a few hours of contemplation, Dumbledore suggesting things and Harry answering with a 'yeah,' 'no,' or 'nuh-uh,' they came up with a solution.

"Stanley?" Dumbledore asked, looking up to the sorting hat. "Would you be willing to hold something that must be kept away from certain individuals?"

"Certainly, Albus, that is one of my major duties to this castle, besides sorting," he said.

Dumbledore took out Voldemort's wand.

Stanley's hat eyebrows rose slightly. "Tom Riddle's wand? Now, now, Albus, how were you able to obtain this?"

"Halloween night. Good thing I did too, it helped me save Harry, which is an odd story in itself. . . ." Dumbledore said.

"I see," Stanley said. "Well, then, hurry up, lad. I'm ready to keep it for you."

Dumbledore got Stanley down and gave him the wand.

"There, all secure," Stanley said. "I am curious about why and how you were able to wield your enemy's wand, since I can sense that you are not its master." Stanley closed his eyes, obviously studying what was now hidden within him. "Hmm . . . now that's interesting. . . ."

"Wha'? Wha's in'erstin'?" Harry asked, hopping in place at the side of his crib, gazing up at Stanley.

"You're its master," Dumbledore said softly.

"You are correct, Albus," Stanley said, now looking down, almost apologetically, at Harry.

Harry blinked, then blinked again.

Dumbledore could only stand there and wait as Harry's emotions continued to pour through their link, before it all became numb.

"Oh, Harry," Dumbledore began, moving toward the crib, but before he could lift Harry up, Harry started laughing.

"Mine?! _Mine?!_" Harry asked, finding it so utterly ironic the only thing he could do was laugh.

How long had he wished Voldemort hadn't been able to properly use his wand? How many times had he wondered what it would have been like if someone else had obtained the wand instead of Riddle? How often had he wondered how Riddle's wand would feel in his hand?

And now he was the wand's master!

But wait. . . . Why hadn't that happened before? Why hadn't he been made the wand's master the first time Riddle had tried to kill him?

"Why?" Harry managed, after taking a few deep breaths, Dumbledore now sitting on the couch with him in his arms and looking into his eyes.

"Intent, Harry. This time, you were aware of what Voldemort was trying to do, and you allowed him to do it, so that you will be able to defeat him once and for all. You let yourself sit there, as you had before, but this time you did so with purpose, not as a confused and frightened infant," Dumbledore said.

Harry closed his eyes, recalling the moment his mother had stood between him and Voldemort before she fell. He hadn't been able to stop the infant cry he had released as the green light had struck her, but then, he didn't need to. Voldemort had sneered, staring down at him and glaring into his eyes as he stepped over Lily's body.

"And now you shall die, little Harry. _Avada Kedavra!_" he had said.

And Harry let it come, trusting in his mother's sacrifice, embracing and calling up every loving memory his future and present self had as he focused on the knowledge that it would all be worth it.

His parents and the hundreds of others who had fallen to this madman would not have died in vain.

He would defeat Voldemort.

The future would be saved.

"Harry?" Dumbledore asked, now feeling a wave of understanding from him after the jumbled mess from his memory.

Harry sighed. "'m okay."

"Alright," Dumbledore said, rubbing his back for a moment before setting him down back into the crib for a nap.

O o O o O

Harry had an assortment of toys around him, which Dumbledore had happily given him, looking as if he himself was looking forward to playing with them.

Harry supposed that was entirely possible. He wouldn't put it past Dumbledore to play with an erupting rainbow dazzling box or some other color changing releasing toy.

Harry pushed a few buttons on the magic box, feeling the magic hum under his left hand. His right hand was still bandaged, but Healer Bridge was supposed to be coming over some time in the near future to look at it again and make sure his hand was healing properly.

The rest of the day was busy for the two of them, especially with Dumbledore having to get both of them ready before the staff came in for their monthly meeting; though this meeting was more of a 'welcome back' and 'aww, Harry's adorable!' gathering.

Harry was reluctant to make eye contact with anyone and happily remained either with or beside 'A'bus'. Thankfully, the torture didn't last long, but the meeting had discussed the wards being renewed, strengthened, and improved.

It had mixed responses.

Flitwick, of course, thought it was a brilliant idea and was eager to offer assistance. McGonagall seemed to be in agreement, but she seemed hesitant for some reason, as if they (or rather Albus) had too much to do already. Madam Pince didn't seem to like it at all, mainly because to do what Dumbledore was proposing, a few protections on her books would have to be temporarily lifted, allowing the wards' magics to be woven and strengthened. The rest of the staff didn't really have a strong opinion, and while they didn't particularly like the process that would need to be carried out, they did understand the Headmaster's desire to do what Headmaster after Headmaster (as well as Headmistress) before him had put off for, well . . . centuries.

It was finally decided work would be done on the wards, and that it would be done over the winter break.

With the meeting over, the staff left, except for McGonagall, who had been given the sad duty of preparing and arranging the funerals of the Potters, as well as Sirius Black. Madam Black had disowned Sirius years ago, after all. He would be buried near the Potters, the family that had taken him in.

Dumbledore allowed things to occur as they had the first time with the planning of the Potters' funeral, though this time Sirius Black was included. The funerals would be quiet and private, with only close friends and family attending. It would take place in Godric's Hollow the next day.

Dumbledore knew much of the public would want to partake, but he was not going to allow any part of the funerals become a mob gathering. However, Dumbledore also knew he would not be able to stop the massive flow of public apology and condolences — some of it already coming in as flowers and letters — nor did he want to.

Lily, James, and Sirius all deserved to have their names and actions honored, though he did wish the public would see they were not the only individuals who deserved such respects. . . .

After McGonagall left, the peaceful silence was interrupted by Fawkes, who seemed very happy to see them. Dumbledore and Fawkes then had a long discussion where Fawkes chirped and trilled away at Dumbledore.

Harry thought it sounded a lot like scolding.

"Fawkes, I'm sorry I worried you, but, as you can see, we had no way to tell you what was happening," Dumbledore said, trying to appease his ruffled friend. "And thanks, by the way. I'm glad you were able to use your brilliant, magnificent, bird brain to deduce Harry and I needed your help in melding our present and future consciousnesses together. . . .

"And to think, at first I thought it had been my present and future selves' imaginations that had made it work. . . ."

Fawkes stared at him.

"I know, I know, completely barmy. Anyway, lemon drop?" Dumbledore asked, pointing to the bowl on the corner of the desk.

Fawkes quickly pecked one out of the bowl before flying to his perch, turning his back to them. Dumbledore sighed, knowing it was best to just let Fawkes be to cool off as he set Harry on the floor and arranged the toys around him before getting back into the ward calculations.

"Oooooh," Harry said, unable to prevent himself as he watched the colors from the box putter out in fascination as he put his good hand out to touch the streaming rays.

Perhaps it was simply the desire to feel such a pretty and colorful thing, or maybe it was his own magic wanting something to do. Whatever the reason, the magic light suddenly seemed to change its very form, and was now a brilliant liquid rainbow that began to run across his skin and collect into his palm.

"Lookie, A'bus! Lookie!" Harry said, lifting up his now wet glowing hand and spilling the substance all over himself, thus spreading the mess; however, soon after it was no longer in contact with his skin, it 'evaporated' and morphed back into light, dispersing into the room.

Dumbledore looked down to see all of this, and for a moment was speechless, before giving a broad smile. "My, my, who would have thought you would take after me so quickly?

"When I was young, I did this with this toy. Admittedly, I was a few years older than you, but still! You indeed have a great amount of control, no matter how constricted you are by your core; though . . . ."

Dumbledore brought his hands together, close to his face, in thought.

"Yes . . . that may be . . . hmm. . . ."

"Wha', A'bus?" Harry asked, letting the magic liquid to drip off his hands to disperse into light as he lifted himself up before waddling over to stand beside Dumbledore's knee.

"When we merged with our present selves, several things happened to both of us, but our cores reacted differently," he said, still processing what he was figuring out. Harry nodded. "Both of us, thanks to Fawkes, were able to merge our memories and consciousness to our present selves successfully, thus keeping all of our memories and knowledge intact; however, our magic could not merge as easily. I'll explain.

"For me, my core, as in, present core, had already matured and grown to its fullest extent. My magic we sent through time with us could not merge with the present core, because well, it's just not possible. It's like trying to completely mesh two concrete columns together and make them one. It can't be done; they're already set and solid. However, my magic wasn't lost completely.

"All of what my core gained through the years in the future, what I like to call 'conditioning', was transferred to the present core. Think of it as carvings on the column, art work, if you will. All of the spells I learned how to cast in the future, I can successfully do now, because of the conditioning. I don't need to 'reteach' my magic how to cast them. Another thing I gained, or rather lost, was the damage my core suffered in the future. Damage caused by curses or what have you. My magic picked and chose what to take, and what to lose, because it could not keep them both."

Dumbledore looked at Harry, quickly gathering he was following, though he seemed to have a question.

"Where did my unusable future magic go?" Dumbledore asked. Harry nodded, deciding to ignore how Dumbledore always knew what you wanted to know without using legilimency. "Hmm, I honestly don't know, but if I had to guess, I would say into Hogwarts, since it was here I arrived at from the future. Oh! It should make improving the wards a bit easier!"

Taking two lemon drops from the bowl, Dumbledore ate one and gave the other to Harry before continuing.

"As for you, I am certain the near opposite happened to you. Your future, mature core went into your infant core, which is still 'soft'. When we are young, specifically under four, our cores are amazingly flexible, and though delicate, they can overcome a great deal of trauma that would permanently devastate an adult's core.

"So, your infant core literally swallowed up your adult core, integrating its magic into its own, molding the two cores together into a single double-layered one. This is all just my thoughts on it all, but it makes sense, and what I have recently witnessed from you supports this.

"Anyway, even though you essentially still have your adult core, its integration into your younger one has caused it to change as well, absorbing some of the young magic that surrounds it. And so, you have lost a vast amount of your conditioning and control because of this, save for where your magic is tied to your mind, such as occlumency and legilimency, as well as our empathic link, again, thanks to Fawkes. I am sure you have felt a few subtle changes in our link since we have arrived here.

"I think it, as well as your occlumency and legilimency, will get stronger as your young magic matures and your two cores continue to 'solidify' together," Dumbledore said.

Harry frowned, trying to decide if that was a good thing or not. Dumbledore looked as if he was about to say something to ease whatever Harry was feeling, but the fireplace flared green, alerting him that someone wished to speak with him.

"Ah, must be Healer Bridge," he said, getting up and placing his hand on the mantle, giving Bridge floo access, before kneeling in front of the flames. Harry stood off to the side of Dumbledore's left.

"Headmaster?" Bridge asked as his face came into view.

"Ah, Adam, I had been wondering when you would call us," Dumbledore said. "This is about Harry's check up, correct?"

"Yes, sir, it is. He is doing alright, right?" Bridge asked.

"Yes, he is," Dumbledore said, motioning a little to his left. "You can step on through; we're ready for you."

"Of course."

With that, Dumbledore got up and stepped back, picking Harry up as he did so, allowing Bridge plenty of room to enter.

Bridge stepped in with very little soot, quickly noticing the toys in a circle just behind Dumbledore's desk and a nearly empty bowl of lemon drops.

"Lemon drop?" Dumbledore offered, noticing Bridge looking at it.

"Uh, no thanks, Headmaster," he said.

Dumbledore shrugged, giving Harry one who gladly stuck it in his mouth and sucked on it. Bridge decided to remain silent, keeping his concern about choking to himself. He was not about to tell Albus Dumbledore how to raise a child.

"Well, shall I then?" he asked.

"Ah, yes, of course," Dumbledore said, moving to one of the chairs beside another where they could both sit while he held Harry.

"Alright," Bridge said, sitting down and moving his hand to rest Harry's bandaged one on top of it. "Have you noticed him doing anything with it? Or is he currently preferring his left?" he asked Dumbledore, slowly beginning to unwrap it.

He silently noticed how Harry obediently kept his hand still as he unwrapped it. Clearly Dumbledore had been putting clean bandages on often; good.

"He's very careful with his right, usually putting it in his lap while using his left for everything," Dumbledore said, deciding the truth in this situation couldn't hurt anything.

"Hm. Well, that's understandable. I have a few theories about how the scarring will affect his hand, considering how he is protecting his hand and trying his best not to use it. I am sure his hand is very sensitive, though I can't really say how it will be in the long run; it is very possible that his scars will remain this way.

"When it has happened to other patients, magic burns that is, one of two things happen. One, the scar tissue becomes completely numb, preventing any magic from flowing within. The other is the opposite, which is honestly not the better of the two. Because of the high concentration of magic, it has, well, energized the nerve endings, making them extremely sensitive. The scar tissue also acts as a conductor for magic, which can be pleasant or painful; depends on the severity of the damage and type," Bridge said, now looking at Harry's bare and damaged palm.

"Can you do this, Harry? Copy me," he said, lifting his free hand and slowly separating his fingers before slowly wiggling them.

Harry blinked. Was this man crazy?! He was NOT going to try to move his hand! It had just gotten to the point of not really hurting, he wasn't about to agitate the healing burns again!

"Can you wiggle them for me? Just a little, like this?" Bridge asked, wiggling his fingers again.

Harry defiantly shook his head no.

"Harry, can you just try a little?" Dumbledore prompted. "Show Healer Bridge that you're a big boy, hmm?"

Harry looked up at Dumbledore, his eyes narrowing slightly, and to Bridge it almost looked as if he was glaring. Glaring! But that was impossible. Babies do not _glare_.

Harry looked back to Bridge, appearing defeated as Bridge moved his fingers again, demonstrating how he wanted Harry to try and copy him.

Harry lifted his left hand and copied him, leaving his hurt hand completely still.

Bridge gave up.

"Alright, well, it's only natural for a child to protect any injured part of themselves; all I can tell you right now is to watch him. See if he begins using it again and how. If he continues to avoid using it at all by the middle of next week, there may be something else wrong, and we'll need to take him in for tests," Bridge said. "Thankfully, because of the magic on the gauze, we don't need to worry about infection and his local healing has been accelerated. In ten days, you should be able to stop wrapping his hand, but be sure to get that okayed by either myself or Madam Pomfrey. We don't want to do anything premature that may cause permanent consequences."

Dumbledore nodded. "I'm sure he is just afraid of making it hurt again, but I'll watch him. Should I continue applying the cream?"

"It seems to be doing well. Hmm. Continue using the cream I provided," Bridge said.

"Very well," Dumbledore said as they both stood up.

"If you need anything or think something may be wrong with Harry, don't hesitate to contact me at home or at St. Mungo's," Bridge said.

"I will, and thank you, Adam."

With that, Healer Bridge left by floo, Harry still having yet to move his hand.

"You know, you could have just given him a small wave, Harry," Dumbledore said, sitting back down with him still in his arms. "But if it is hurting even with the cream and potions, you need to let me know."

Harry shrugged. "'m okay."

Dumbledore felt Harry was being honest, but then Harry's pain threshold was not exactly a normal infant's.

"I'm serious, Harry. You shouldn't be in pain, especially if you don't have to be."

Harry leaned back, resting completely on Dumbledore's chest. "It's bett'r. P'omise."

O o O o O

Harry was down for a nap, a fresh bandage on his hand; though, Dumbledore had decided a simple square gauze would do, instead of wrapping Harry's entire hand for the evening. The burn was only on his palm and at the base of his fingers, after all.

Flitwick had visited for a little bit, helping with the ward calculations. Dumbledore was suddenly ever so thankful for the muggle calculator he had charmed to work around magic. It had a great number of cool functions muggles used in things they called 'calcoolus,' 'tri'naw-meat-tree,' and a lot of other things Dumbledore couldn't hope to properly pronounce.

He knew all of the intricacies of these maths and how to use them, and with ancient runes and arithmacy, but had no clue on the technical names and terms of them, he just knew how to use them. So what is a genius to do? Simply sum them all up by dubbing them, 'Math Squiggles.'

He heard Harry sigh in his sleep before hearing an owl come in through the window, dropping a note on his desk before swooping out again.

"Ah, Remus, I had wondered when I would hear from you," Dumbledore said.

**Dear Headmaster,**

I first want to thank you for sending word to me about James and Lily, as well as Sirius. I am grateful I had not learned of their . . . passing by means of the Prophet. It is hard enough as it is. I will be attending their funerals, as Professor McGonagall has recently given me what I need to know to be present.

I also want to thank you for telling me Harry is safe, and that he would be with you even before you informed the public. I know he will be well taken care of and loved by you. Were it not for my circumstances, I would gladly offer my assistance in raising him, but I know that is not possible, particularly considering how quickly the Ministry is cracking down on all possible dark individuals. I don't want to unintentionally hurt anyone, directly or otherwise.

Again, I want to thank you for everything you have given and done for me, I doubt any other Headmaster would have allowed me to go to classes with those of my age, let alone enter a school. I will never be able to repay what you have given, nor what James, Lily, and Sirius gave me, but know that I will seek a way to show my gratitude in how I live, though I feel I must do so away from Europe. I do not make my decision lightly, for the things you recently said to the press is what prompted this decision.

I don't know if or when I will return, but, if you ever need to contact me, I am certain Fawkes will be able to find me. I have heard America is slightly more lenient when it comes to my condition; I am hopeful I will be able to find a job there, as well as a new beginning.

Thank you for everything,

Sincerely,

**Remus Lupin**

Dumbledore sighed, putting the letter down before removing his glasses.

"I hope you find what you are looking for," Dumbledore whispered as Harry gave another quiet sleep-filled sigh.

* * *

_Next Part: Departure_

A/N: Insert words from authors' here [...Scribbles...]


	8. Departure

Disclaimer: Really? We don't own this? Are you sure? Darn, must have been a dream then.

**Questions Concerning:**

_Anna_: Yes, she is a bit different. Her history is obviously unique and an event in her childhood is the cause of her ability. However, please note that she can't do more than simply skim the surface of a Legilimens without being detected. More on her later.

_Harry's hand_: You'll see.

* * *

**Part 8: Departure**

McGonagall made her way up to the Headmaster's office. They would be leaving for the funerals within the hour.

The door opened automatically as she went up the staircase. Entering the office, she found Dumbledore and Harry behind the desk, both of them already in dark robes. Harry was sitting on Dumbledore's lap, and appeared to be trying his best to give some baby comfort. Comfort young children seemed to instinctively know when to give.

"A'bus sad," Harry stated.

McGonagall sighed, though silently impressed with Harry's vocabulary and ability to read Albus, though, Dumbledore may have told Harry how he was feeling and Harry was just repeating it.

Dumbledore looked up at McGonagall, looking exactly how Harry had just said, sad.

"How are you, my dear?" he asked, clearly pushing aside his own grief.

"I'll be fine, Albus, how about you?" she asked, moving in front of the desk.

Dumbledore looked at her for a moment, as if trying to determine the answer. A few emotions passed through his eyes that she couldn't decipher as Harry briefly closed his eyes, as if pained by an invisible thing. She didn't know what to think about that, but decided it must have been a brief irritation on his palm or something.

"Albus?"

"I'll be fine; we'll all be fine. Death is just the next great adventure, though I seem to have recently forgotten that," he said. "Not that that knowledge relieves or removes much sorrow or regret."

"Albus, Lily and James know you did everything you could, and I'm sure Sirius knows that too. Their deaths were not your fault."

"I know. I just wish things could have gone differently, especially since the war has . . . been postponed. The Potters and so many others should have been given this rest, rather than the deeper everlasting kind," Dumbledore said.

"You really believe You-Know-Who can return?" McGonagall asked softly.

"Can, and will," he said, before frowning as if realizing something. "And Minerva, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' business is enough to make even a sane person like myself go insane. And if you can't bring yourself to call him _Voldemort_, surely you can call him _Riddle_?"

"Baldie bad!" Harry suddenly interrupted, a part of him for some odd reason not liking that he was being ignored.

Dumbledore couldn't help but chuckle as the corner of McGonagall's left eye gave a slight twitch.

"Yes, Harry, Voldemort is bad," he said, his eyes alight with amusement.

"'Baldie', Albus?" she asked, not sure how she should feel about Harry unintentionally designating a rather humorous nickname for the Dark Lord who had terrorized them for the past eleven years, not to mention murdered his parents and so many others.

"James and Lily were alone with Harry for several months in that house, Minerva. It stands to reason that he would pick up words a bit quicker than the average toddler because of that, and considering James' personality, I'm sure such mispronunciations were encouraged," Dumbledore said, before giving a sad sigh. "It is clear Voldemort was often a topic of conversation between them."

"Well, Albus, we should be going. I'm sure most everyone is already there," she said after a few seconds.

Dumbledore nodded, standing up with Harry on his left hip. Dumbledore had done away with the bandage on Harry's forehead, but had placed a fresh one on his hand. He hoped people would be respectful and not stare at the bolt-shaped scar, and considering the only people who would be attending the funeral were close friends, he was sure they would be.

O o O o O

It was quiet, and everyone paused and turned to Dumbledore, Harry, and McGonagall when they appeared in the cemetery. Although the color black was not being worn by all, dark colors were prominent. The only bright color seen was a small yellow lily pinned just above their hearts with a clay band around its stem and a black silk ribbon looped to the ring. The three items of course symbolized Lily, James, and Sirius.

Dumbledore silently conjured them for himself, Harry, and McGonagall.

The caskets were up at the front and closed. People were quietly mingling, talking of the past and the good times they had with the dearly departed.

The service was quick and not long winded, the time primarily focusing on people simply showing their respects. A few people came up to Dumbledore and stroked or kissed Harry's cheek in sympathy.

Harry stayed with Dumbledore, and Dumbledore knew better than to pass Harry off to anyone. Everyone surprisingly didn't question this, though a few times people like Molly Weasley came over and hovered for a little bit, as if hoping Dumbledore would let her hold Harry for a while. But Harry's clinginess was answer enough for her, that and an unexplainable feeling she got for a moment, as if she was trespassing or something.

McGonagall stayed close by, but gave them space in case some people wanted to only speak with Dumbledore or Harry (not that Harry spoke much).

It wasn't that Harry didn't like being held by other people, it was just that he wasn't ready to be held by or really interact with those who were, for the moment, dead to him. Getting used to seeing and hearing McGonagall had been hard enough, and still was a little, so seeing Molly Weasley and several other people he had known in the future, and yes, even seen die, was slightly overwhelming.

Harry took a moment to scan his eyes over everyone who had come. There were the Weasleys, the Longbottoms, people from the Order, a few people he didn't know, and . . . was that Xenophilius Lovegood?

Harry moved his head, causing Dumbledore to look where Harry was staring.

"Ah, I see you have found the Lovegoods," Dumbledore said softly.

Harry continued looking, seeing a woman beside Xeno holding a fairly young infant who Harry instantly knew was Luna. Xeno seemed to be unsure, as if he didn't know why they were there, while his wife was quite content, though understandably sad as they began making their way toward Harry and Dumbledore.

Harry quickly averted his eyes, trying to appear as clueless as possible, though his eyes revealed him to be anything but. For people who looked at Harry, they would go away strongly believing the child instinctively knew what the gathering was about, which wasn't that abnormal. Children often do understand more than adults give them credit for.

"Good evening, Headmaster," Xeno said, his wife holding baby Luna in a blue, sparkling sling just behind him. "It pains me that we must meet on such circumstances, but it seems we mere mortals can only accept what comes." He sighed, and Harry tried not to imagine what thing he was about to say next. "The Potters will be missed, and I dare say the Sparkling Humdingers will particularly miss them. Just look at them, circling around above them. . . ." Xeno motioned toward the caskets, pointing to a collection of imaginary invisible things.

Thankfully, Xeno's wife stepped up before her husband could say anything more to possibly prove his . . . unique mental facilities.

"How are you and Harry doing, Headmaster?" she asked, Luna opening her eyes and blinking at the sight of a very old man with an impossibly long white beard.

"We are doing as well as can be expected, under the circumstances, but we will be fine, Rebekah," Dumbledore said.

Rebekah (Beki) gave a sad but supportive smile. "I'm sure you've already been told this by several people, but if you or Harry need anything, we're willing to help. As you know, Lily was a close friend of mine. I want her son to live the life she would have wanted for him — a good, safe, happy and long one."

"I plan to provide that as best I can. And if I think of anything I feel you can help us with, I'll be sure to ask you," Dumbledore said sincerely.

Beki gave a short nod, before Luna gave a happy gurgle. Harry leaned forward, wanting to see what baby Luna looked like.

Because of the war, most keepsakes such as photos had been lost. They were much like people. There one day, gone the next.

Harry gazed down at Luna, wondering how long she would stay innocent this time before briefly glancing at her mother, who he knew was watching him. Pulling back, almost appearing embarrassed, Harry vowed to try to prevent the death of this woman, so Luna would have a mother and not have to bear the burden of witnessing death.

"You want a better look at Luna?" Beki cooed, turning slightly to allow Harry to see Luna more clearly, instead of trying to peek over the cloth of the sling. "She's much smaller than you, isn't she? But don't let her size fool you, she has a very strong set of lungs, let me tell you," she said, bringing up her free hand and touching Luna's nose affectionately with her finger.

Luna gave a small giggle, her little hands waving about slightly.

Harry smiled, and before he could stop himself, he reached out with his good hand and took hold of her little hand.

_Wow, she is little_, Harry thought as Luna focused her eyes on him.

Suddenly realizing what he was doing, he let her hand go and pulled away, or he would have if she didn't have such a strong grip.

"Ah, you let our little Luna get a vice-grip," Xeno said proudly. "Her hands are as strong as Mango Lipsmackers!"

Harry blinked, his hand still in the custody of one two-month-old until Beki intervened.

"There we go," she said, gently prying Luna's tiny fingers from Harry's hand. "Very lucky your hair is out of reach, Harry. She does not relinquish that so easily. I know from experience." She glanced at Dumbledore's beard and took a tiny step back.

Dumbledore gave a small chuckle, noticing Beki's thoughtful action as Harry subconsciously placed his now free hand onto Dumbledore's beard and took hold.

"Well, Headmaster, you know where to find us if you ever wish to," she said, Xeno giving a departing nod, before they walked away.

O o O o O

Harry and Dumbledore returned to Hogwarts later that day, feeling understandably emotionally worn and physically tired.

Dumbledore lowered Harry into the playpen, before handing him a lemon drop and plopping heavily into his office chair. Harry sucked on the lemon drop as he eyed Dumbledore with concern and question.

"Harry, my boy, I've just been hit with a thought. I don't know why it took me so long to realize this, but, we are not the only ones who have needed to go to funerals recently. Many of my students have lost parents, siblings, friends and relatives. Some of them are even alone.

"Why didn't I do something the first time? Perhaps if I had, some would have chosen differently," Dumbledore said. "Well, I'm going to change this now. Hmm, how do you think we can help?"

Harry scrunched up his face for a moment, thinking. "Cow'suhwaloar," he finally said.

"What?"

"Cow'suhwalowalr."

"I'm sorry, I can't understand you."

Harry huffed, trying to get his tongue to work for him so he could pronounce the word he wanted. "Cow'snuhslwar."

"Okay . . . 'cow'… I'm trying, Harry. Say it again," Dumbledore said, truly trying to understand what Harry was obviously desperately trying to say.

Harry took a deep breath, willing himself to try again. "Cow . . . oh, goshergobber! Uh, shink! shrik, shrink!"

"Huh? You want to shrink?! You want to be smaller?"

"Argh! No! Uh sh'ink!"

"A shrink?" Dumbledore asked, even more confused.

Harry nodded, relieved Dumbledore had understood the word.

"What is a 'shrink'?"

Harry moaned, trying not to cave into tears. This was so frustrating! Harry looked over at the desk and began reaching for a quill and a piece of parchment. Dumbledore quickly noticed and gave them to him.

Taking hold of the quill as he sat down in his playpen, Harry carefully placed the parchment into his lap with his wrapped hand and made his features relax into a thoughtful one. He then tapped the side of the blank page with the side of his quill.

"A'bus, I see . . . I see," Harry said, before going off into a random, but clearly thoughtful, baby babble.

"A reporter?!" Dumbledore asked, gathering that Harry was trying to impersonate some sort of person.

Beyond frustrated, Harry leapt up and chucked the quill and page away, barely mindful of his injured hand.

"No-no-no!" he shouted, very close to a tantrum.

Both of them feeling equally frustrated and discouraged, Dumbledore got up, suddenly thinking of something that might help them. He went over to his bookcase and pulled out a decently sized book.

"Here," he said, gently placing the book in the pen.

A dictionary!

Harry quickly plopped down and began fumbling through the pages, Dumbledore privately thankful about placing anti-tear and anti-papercut charms on all the pages years before. Harry got to the 'c's and slowed down, before stopping and skimming a particular page in search of that special word.

"Dat!" Harry shouted, pointing at a three syllable word with his tiny little finger, his bandaged hand once again in his lap.

"Oh! Counselor!" Dumbledore exclaimed, now excited. They had found the word!!!

Harry nodded, grinning like mad and so happy Dumbledore now understood.

"Ok, I see where you're going with this, and it certainly would help the students. Of course, they know they can always come to one of the professors or myself, but I also know how students feel and what they think. . . . I recall when you were a student, you didn't want to speak to any of us, thinking we were too busy or wouldn't understand." Dumbledore gave a sad sigh as past regrets flickered in his eyes. "I think hiring a counselor is a good idea. That way, students won't feel guilty about taking up an adult's time, and I admit sometimes the professors and I are busy and are not as mindful as we should be."

Harry nodded in agreement, emotionally swallowing the regret that had risen in Dumbledore.

"I will do my best not to fail this time, as I had with you and your peers," Dumbledore promised. "But I also admit I am going to need help in this, hence the counselor. I also trust you will keep me mindful?"

Harry nodded and was unable to prevent himself from gurgling, much to his embarrassment. Dumbledore smiled and scooped him up before going behind his desk and sitting down.

"Who should we get as a counselor?" Dumbledore asked. Harry shrugged. "Hmm."

Harry let him ponder as he reached over and grabbed a lemon drop from the bowl beside him.

"Ah, I know," Dumbledore said finally. Harry looked up to find the old man's eyes twinkling like crazy. "And afterwards, I think I'll write to my old friend, Nicholas."

Harry swallowed nervously, since crazy twinkling usually meant something huge. Dumbledore waved his hand and called the quill to him, immediately setting the tip to parchment.

**Dear Rebekah Lovegood,**

O o O o O

Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel exited their greenhouse and entered their mansion. It wasn't exactly a mansion, but that's what the wizarding world assumed they lived in, so they playfully called the one story cabin a mansion.

Going into the living room, they were not all that surprised to find Fawkes resting on the perch beside Honey, their golden phoenix who Fawkes was undeniably attracted to. It was rather cute, actually.

"Good to see you Fawkes. Brought something for us from Albus, I assume?" Nicholas asked, before Fawkes gave a nod to the table where a sealed letter was.

"Let's see what the young follow has to say now," Nicholas said, taking a seat at the couch and picking up the letter.

Perenelle sat beside him, wishing to read what Albus, the always curious, Dumbledore, had written.

**Dear Nicholas (and your always lovely wife),**

"My, he certainly is always the charmer," Perenelle said with amusement, before they continued reading.

_I trust you are both doing well and I deeply thank you for the socks you gave me for my birthday, and with arch-support, no less. I assume it was Perenelle who enchanted the goldfish to swim around at the ankles?_

_Alas, I am getting off topic. I apologize. _

_Back to what I wished to write to you about. Considering how you care for the Daily Prophet, but understand its slight usefulness, I will presume you have learned about recent events concerning the Potters, their son, and myself. If you have not, then by all means, stop reading my letter for a moment and glance at the cover of one of the articles I'm certain has recently been delivered to you in the past few days._

Nicholas paused, recalling the shock he had felt upon reading that his young, much younger, friend had recently taken on a charge, and had even gone as far as making him his heir. Oh, the Flamels certainly knew about recent events, and it had only been the desire to allow Albus and his charge time to adjust that had prevented them from contacting him themselves.

They went back to reading.

_In light of all of that, I am sure you will be happy to learn Harry is settling in nicely, and Hogwarts is getting used to the young lad as well. However, I once again am going off topic. Minerva would no doubt blame it on my precious lemon drops she is always trying to warn me against. Sugar meddling with my brains, she says. _

_Anyway, I have come to a few conclusions and thoughts of late concerning something I believe would greatly benefit you and your wife. I know you have had qualms about taking on an apprentice, but I feel I must call attention to a promising young man._

_I believe you may have heard of his name, but before I reveal it to you, allow me to tell you about him. His character is like no other I have ever encountered. _

_He is not perfect, but unlike most his age, he knows he is not and has made the decision to rectify any mistakes he may have made and desires nothing less than to do his best. He is an exceptional researcher, inventor, investigator, and student. He has a mind that is only his own, though he selects those he allows to help shape it. _

_He has a sense of loyalty Helga Hufflepuff would have revered and has an unquenchable desire to find answers. Along with all of this comes his bravery. He is braver than myself. The only thing he has in more abundance is his cunning, which I know you will quickly find respectable. I dare say he is more cunning than you, and you will understand why I feel I can say this when you meet him, and especially so when you get to know him._

_He despises hand-outs, not only because he regards himself unworthy to receive much of anything, but also because he prides himself on earning things for himself. I have never met a man with such a large amount of pride coupled with such humility._

_Although he is not the youngest soul I would trust my life to, he is one of the few people I would, and one of the very few I would trust my heir's life to._

_I know, however you accept him as an apprentice, if you do, you will have found a man worthy of passing on your knowledge to and able to further your legacy. _

_I humbly and with great pride give you the name of this exceptional young man:_

**_Severus Snape_**

_If you have any questions concerning him, I will gladly answer them as best I can. The only thing I ask is for you to keep my involvement in all of this a closely guarded secret, especially from Severus. He would not feel he deserves my compliments and it would serve no purpose should he learn of my words. _

_I only wish to give him a chance at an opportunity. The rest is between you, your wife, and him._

_Your Always Curious Lad,_

_Albus P.W.B. Dumbledore_

Nicholas and Perenelle looked up from the letter and turned to each other.

And blinked.

"Perhaps we have been remiss in finding an heir to our research," Perenelle whispered.

"Perhaps."

O o O o O

Lucius' funeral was as ornate and gaudy as the man had been. Everyone wore their best dark colored clothes, the casket was carved with snakes, and Lucius himself was covered in a silver and gold embroidered cloth. Anna knew he would be impressed and happy. Whoever had arranged the funeral either knew the man personally or followed the tacky, overstated fashion that many purebloods followed.

Anna did not feel much emotion herself. Funerals never saddened her, since she had time to grieve beforehand. This was simply the final send off to the afterlife for Lucius. She could feel emotions from others, however. Though most were calm, and simply here as a duty to their house or name, there were a few who mourned, and more than a few who were glad.

Narcissa and Draco stood near the casket, and as everyone walked by, then grasped her hand or, if they were Malfoys, kissed her on the cheeks or grasped her in a hug. Anna noticed Draco's godfather, Severus Snape, in line just in front of her. He reached them and took Narcissa's hand in his. He did not speak, as was the custom at funerals. He glanced down, almost in apology before he kissed Narcissa on both cheeks. He released her and walked on past.

Anna kissed both Narcissa and Draco before bowing out of respect for their loss. She joined the circle of family that was forming near the runes. Her message to Lucius was simple and short. She would wish him all the best in the afterlife, whatever it may be. Narcissa would always be family, and family stuck together.

O o O o O

Jess and Don stood near the end of the line. Everyone was dressed in black, and no one spoke as they walked past the casket. There were no tears, no signs of emotion except a tightening of a chin here or a rapid blinking of the eyes there. Jess looked up at Don and, even through her black veil, noticed his clenched jaw. He remained as stoic as the rest of the crowd, though he spared a softer glance toward Jess when she lightly touched his arm.

They had reached the casket. A black shroud covered the body of Don's school friend, the one, in fact, who had brought him into the death eaters. Jess had known him, but not well, although she mourned for a life lost.

They walked past the casket and waited on the outskirts of the family group as the casket was covered and sealed with runes. Some of the runes would help the remains decay faster in order to return him to the earth, others were believed to send messages to the fallen in the afterlife. Whether this was true or not, it was a comfort to the mourners.

After the casket was lowered into the ground, the family gathered in a small circle to continue the funeral rites. The rest of the people left quietly, not even risking an apparation crack to disturb the silence.

* * *

_Next Part: Examination_

A/N: Insert words from authors' here [... Math Squigglies ...]


	9. Preparations

Disclaimer: Really? We don't own this? Are you sure? Darn, must have been a dream then.

* * *

**Part 9: Preparation**

"All right, I know you've got it," Anna whispered, leaning over David's desk. "I want it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," David answered with a nervous giggle.

"Yeah, you do," Anna answered with a roll of her eyes. "I'm willing to pay you for it."

"You don't need it," David said, dropping all pretense of not understanding.

"I could take it by force, but I'm respecting your boundaries," Anna said with a smirk.

"No, I'm pretty sure you couldn't," David drawled.

"I'd prefer not to have to," Anna said. "I told you I'm willing to pay."

"So you did," David said, opening his robe. "Well, I suppose I'm willing to part with some."

Anna smiled. Now a good day would be a great day.

O o O o O

Rebekah apparated to Hogsmeade, after having set several rules for her husband to follow while taking care of Luna. She shook her head with an amused smile, thinking about how she had to make sure Xeno knew not to be concerned with the fabled hubble bunnies said to prance around the ceilings of nurseries.

She made her way up to castle, excited about seeing Dumbledore. Earlier that week, she had received a letter from him, asking her if she would be willing to take a new position at the school.

At first, she had been hesitant, but as time went on, the more she grew to like the idea. She wondered why it had never been thought of before. Any large school, such as Hogwarts, should have a councilor. Granted, one would hope a student would go to their Head of House, but that, quite frankly, was too much to hope for where emotional teenagers were concerned. Having an adult whose only purpose at the school was to serve the students in an emotional capacity was a good thing.

She wondered if this new position had come about because of his new charge, but she supposed she would learn more soon.

Finally making it to the castle, Rebekah entered to be greeted by Flitwick.

She had always liked Flitwick. Such an energetic little man, practically boundless in his happiness.

"Ah, Mrs. Lovegood, the Headmaster had warned me of your arrival," he said teasingly.

"How kind of him," she replied, returning the banter.

"So, how is your little one?" he asked curiously.

"Very good," she answered.

"Well, I'm sure you know your way," he said. "Oh! Almost forgot. The Headmaster has recently taken a liking to a muggle candy called Everlasting Gobstoppers, though he complains that they are not truly everlasting."

Rebekah smiled, understanding the obvious password being shared as she nodded. "I can understand his disappointment. Has he made his thoughts known to the company?"

Flitwick let out an exasperated sigh. "Yes, he has. In the last staff meeting he informed us of how he is eagerly awaiting 'Willy Wonka's' reply."

Rebekah fought off an amused smirk. "Well, can't say I'm surprised. . . ."

"Indeed. Good day, Mrs. Lovegood, I'm looking forward to possibly seeing you more often."

"Likewise."

They went their separate ways, Rebekah heading up to the Headmaster's office. Coming to the gargoyle, she said the password and made her way up the spiral stairs. Lifting up her hand to knock on the closed door at the top, she stopped herself as several voices from beyond the door came to her ears, and . . . were those giggles?

"Hold on child!"

"Neigh!"

"Quite lively for an old steed."

"The current Headmaster is insane."

_Giggles._

"Now really, Phineas, one's mental state is n—"

"Ah! You're a horse right now, Albus! No talking!" another voice declared as another bout of infant giggles surfaced.

"Yay! Horsey!"

Suddenly very curious about what was going on, Rebekah knocked.

"Com'n!" a very young voice called.

She entered, deciding whoever was beckoning could welcome her in. Opening the door, she found it very hard to keep from either laughing or gaping.

Albus Dumbledore, on his hands and knees, had a grinning toddler on his back gripping his robes like reigns.

"Good afternoon, Rebekah," Dumbledore said, as if talking while in such a position was perfectly dignified.

Harry slipped off, carefully avoiding using his bandaged hand, allowing Dumbledore to get up. Before Dumbledore stood, he picked Harry up and propped him on his hip.

"Horsey, I presume?" she asked.

"I prefer 'Stallion', but Harry can't pronounce that well enough," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling.

"Hm, better than 'Pony' though, right?" she asked.

Dumbledore chuckled as a few of the portraits snickered. "Without a doubt." He then motioned for her to take a seat while he put Harry in the playpen.

"I assume you have discussed this with Xenophilius?"

"Of course, and he thinks it's a brilliant idea," she said, before looking slightly amused. "He thinks it's a 'marvelous career change' for me, considering how the 'hexal drats' have been begging him to convince me to get out of the Unspeakable branch of Spell Creation and Manipulation and into a 'safer field' of magic."

Dumbledore kept his face interested while he internally blanched, of course recalling how she had died before. Dumbledore knew not to overlook or ignore Xeno's sometimes (okay, often) odd stories or theories, since they seemed to always have a, though obscure, tie to the truth.

"I'm glad that he was happy about it, and that the hexal drats no longer have reason to beg him of anything," Dumbledore said, treating the hexal drats as things that should be taken seriously.

Rebekah always liked how Dumbledore never looked down on her husband. It was probably one of the reasons she agreed to work for him. Though she really enjoyed working in the research department of the Ministry, sometimes the digs they got in against her husband became a bit much—whether or not she heard them directly. She was tired of people looking down on her husband. What business was it of theirs whether or not he left peace offerings to Rabid Dust Bunnies on Fridays, hummed a certain tune to ward off Influenza Puffs or bowed to proud Fresher Corps in the market place (which evidently kept the food from spoiling quickly, keeping the Roti-moths from feasting)?

She understood that her husband couldn't be deemed as 'normal', but the least people could do was accept that he wasn't and just go along with what he said, or at least respect his opinion. Though she didn't necessarily believe everything her husband said about mystical creatures, she knew some of the things he said were true, and that a number of these creatures did exist, and even if they didn't, he was still her husband, and she married him because she liked him, abnormal or not.

_Couldn't people realize that?_ she wondered.

"Well, Headmaster, when do I start?"

O o O o O

Albus Dumbledore picked up Harry's nappy bag, checking to make sure it was properly packed. Once he had found out that parents generally carried a large bag filled with nearly endless necessities, he had happily gone shopping after his meeting with Rebekah. He was also quite proud of his handiwork, adding countless charms to the bag so that it might as well have been a survival kit for an entire army, well, baby army at least.

Albus knew Harry was not fond of the silky purple bag with yellow lightning bolts, but he couldn't really help himself. No point in going through life dull and boring. Harry simply didn't like anything that reminded him that, physically, he was a toddler. As smart or understanding as he was, there were just some things his little body could not handle yet. So Albus kept nappies and changes of clothes, even a bottle for the lad in the eye catching bag.

Albus reached for Harry, who, though pouting at the sight of the bag, realized the importance of being on time. Once Harry was secure, his bandaged hand tucked away so as not to bump anything, Albus took hold of the peacock feather left by the representative of the Unspeakables a few days ago. He was becoming rather adept at carrying both Harry and other items.

His office, with its bright colors and spinning knickknacks, was suddenly replaced by four blank, white walls. There was enough space to take a step in any direction, but no more. No doors, no windows. He drew his wand, placing the feather in the diaper bag. He did not expect an attack, but experience had taught him to expect the unexpected. Now ready, he stood in the exact center of the floor, keeping his eyes on the blank walls.

A section of wall in front him disappeared, letting in a blast of hot air. A woman wearing well kept black robes walked through, wand drawn but pointed at the floor. Harry's grip grew tight on Albus' beard as Albus felt his fear, but there was no accidental magic.

"Mr. Dumbledore," she said with a slight bow. "It is good to see you again. I am Unspeakable Jess, the Head of RDHPIT. We met two days ago in your office."

With those words, Albus suddenly remembered her, and the meeting they had had about Harry's tests. Some sort of spell must have been blocking his memory so that he could not recognize her, although he remembered the details of the conversation other than that. Harry also relaxed. "Ah, of course. Good to see you again." What a remarkable spell these people had created! To be able to make themselves seem completely unremarkable and forgettable, even to someone who made it his business to remember people and conversations — like himself – was amazing! He would have to ask if they could teach him the spell, as it could be immensely useful to him and Harry.

Albus lowered his wand, not quite ready to trust Jess completely, but wanting to show a measure of good faith. Jess smiled at the gesture, and, immediately, her wand disappeared. Albus thought perhaps she had stowed it in a wrist holster, but it had been too fast to be sure.

"Please follow me," Jess said as she gestured through the open wall and began walking down a hallway. After stepping through the doorway, Albus looked behind him and saw only solid wall. Remarkable! No wonder these people were in the most secretive branch of the ministry. However, the air was close and hot, and Harry started squirming. "I apologize for the heat," Jess explained with a glance back. "But the spells that control the temperature in here somehow got crossed. The ministry has someone working on it, but it will probably be some time before it is back to normal. Feel free to remove extra layers of clothing or cast a few cooling charms."

"Much appreciated," Albus said as he removed his hat, shrunk it wandlessly, and placed it in the nappy bag.

The hall opened out to a medium sized room where a non-descript person sat on a dark couch.

"Welcome to RDHPIT," Jess said. "This is Unspeakable Seth, and the others are preparing the tests and the testing room."

Seth stood, and Albus noticed his muggle clothing as he stepped carefully over the wizard's chessboard he had been pondering over and held out his hand. "Hi."

Albus shook his hand, wondering again at the spell the Unspeakables had perfected. Although Albus had noticed Seth before, he had not remembered him or deemed him worthy of further scrutiny. Such a spell would be handy for Harry especially, but also for himself. He stopped his pondering as Unspeakable Jess led him to a small table with a stack of papers. Seth followed them, moving a knight on the chessboard as he passed by. It seemed a very close game.

"Before we sign all the paperwork the ministry has us sign," Jess said, rolling her eyes, "do you have any questions?"

"What kind of tests will you do?" Albus asked. "I don't want to put Harry in any sort of danger."

"Well, first we will perform a full physical on him," Jess answered. "Then we will do some tests to determine his intelligence level, and compare that to other toddlers his age, and then we will do some tests on his magic. The tests we'll run today are just basic tests to see how his magic responds. Hopefully we can see how it's different from normal."

That was pretty much what Albus expected. As long as they did not hurt Harry, and they did not catch on to the time travel, he saw no reason to refuse them. "Where will you conduct these tests?"

"Oh, we have a room that dampens outside magic so we can concentrate on him. If you still consent, you will be outside the room, but within sight, so you can observe all of the tests and know that Harry is safe," Jess answered. "Someone will be with you at all times in case you have any questions during the tests."

"That sounds reasonable," Albus said. "I just have one request."

"What is it?" Jess asked.

"Would you be willing to drop the spell you have as a disguise?" Albus asked. "I would like to know exactly who I am entrusting Harry to."

"Actually, that's one of the forms," Seth answered. "You know who we are, but you'll keep it a secret, and same for us."

"Then perhaps you would let me sign that first?" Albus questioned. "I would feel a great deal better if the spell was removed."

"I don't see why not," Jess said with a shrug. "The others you will meet later, but at least you'll know who we are, if you are as good as your reputation. People say you never forget a person."

"I try," Albus said with a smile and a twinkle. He could feel Harry agreeing and trying not to laugh. He giggled anyway. "What do I need to sign?"

"Umm," Jess rifled through the papers, finally pulling one out from near the end. "Ah, here it is." She slapped the paper down on the table in front of Albus, then called out, "Queen to E5."

Seth glanced back at the table. "Nooooooo!" He leaped out of the chair and moved back to the couch. "My poor pawn! Now he will never conquer the foreign lands of black!" He looked at the broken piece, shrugged, and placed it back on the table before staring intently back at the board.

Albus blinked and Harry giggled. He took the quill Jess offered and signed the paper, then passed it to her. She immediately signed in a small hand and called Seth over. He signed and both he and Jess said words that Albus did not quite catch, and the spell dropped.

Memories flooded in from their time at Hogwarts.

Jess Carter, '77, Slytherin, quiet, never even had a detention.

Seth Wiggins , '75, Gryffindor, not quiet, a few run-ins with other students, but no more than anyone else.

"Do you still wish to proceed?" Jess asked, shaking Albus from his memories.

From what he could recall, they were trustworthy, and he did not remember them being Voldemort's supporters. "Yes, at least for now," he answered.

"Then let's get through the rest of this paperwork so we can get started," Jess said as she picked up the form from the top of the pile. "This is a general consent form," she explained. "Basically it says that you have agreed to let us test Harry and that you can stop the tests at any time."

Albus picked up the parchment as she passed it to him. Yes, that was more or less what it said.

Jess shoved another one at him. "This is a guardian form. Basically it says you are Harry's guardian and can make decisions for him."

Indeed.

"And this one..."

Several minutes and forms later, Jess reached the bottom of the pile. "And my favorite form, but I don't believe this one will be a problem at all," Jess began as she handed him the form, "the no dropping form."

Albus looked over the form, which stated that he would not drop edible items on the floor. Albus was shocked. He always had anti-dropping charms on himself targeting food, especially sweets. There was no reason to lose any food just because it fell. And why was this even a form? There had been several random forms which seemed to have no purpose, but really, one targeting food? Well, Albus supposed, it was the ministry. He signed it, knowing there was no way he would be dropping food.

"All right, that's it. Shall we go to the testing room?" Jess asked as she vanished the papers to somewhere, an office, presumably.

"After you," Albus said.

Jess and Seth led him past a bulletin board that proudly displayed the words, "WALL OF PROPAGANDA." In a place of prominence was some sort of drawing of a moose? or was it a dog? It was signed with Jess's signature.

Jess followed his glance and narrowed her eyes. "Is that still up there? Dang you, Anna!" She ripped the page off and shoved it into her pocket. Seth snorted.

Albus and Harry smiled. Apparently the Unspeakables were as full of jokers as Hogwarts.

O o O o O

Severus Snape picked up the letter he had just received, wondering who would have contacted him. The heavy parchment, dark ink, and beautiful olde style writing all spoke of someone important and wealthy. It couldn't be Narcissa, however, because the style was too simple. At any rate, Dumbledore was the only person he was expecting correspondence from, but he would probably just firecall.

Severus turned over the letter. There was quite an outcry against death eaters right now, and although it was not public knowledge exactly who were death eaters, it was best to be careful. He ran his wand over the letter, but there seemed to be no traps.

He opened the letter.

_Severus Snape,_

_By reading this, you have proven yourself worthy of my interest. Your academic record is good, and you have much potential. I find myself in need of an apprentice, someone I can pass my life's work to. Those who respond to these letters will be tested further, if they wish to proceed. If you wish to proceed, be at platform 9 ¾ at 6:30am on the 9th of November._

Severus looked at the calendar. The 9th was tomorrow.

_This will show your level of trust. However, being trustful does not mean being stupid. You should prepare for a month of testing in any way you see fit. Food and lodging will be provided. Tell no one where you are going, but you may tell them that you are leaving._

_Kindest regards,_

_Nicholas Flamel_

Severus reread the letter. Was this some sort of joke? Everyone who worked with potions desired to apprentice with, or even meet Nicholas Flamel. This was too important to treat as a joke, however.

Severus folded the letter neatly and placed it in his pocket. Master Flamel had said to be ready in whatever way he desired. He would write a letter to Albus later this evening explaining his absence and why he would not be taking the potions position at Hogwarts. He was rather relieved about that, actually.

Pulling out a battered suitcase, Severus began to pack.

* * *

A/N: The hexal drats made me do it.


	10. Testing

Disclaimer: Really? We don't own this? Are you sure? Darn, must have been a dream then.

Sorry to those I told this would be posted yesterday. Time got away from us. But anyway, here it is :D.

**Question concerning:**

_Hexal Drats_--They are small hexagon-shaped magical puffs, but most of all, they are beings created by two authors for a story :P

* * *

When we last left our heroes, Albus and Harry were being led deep into the bowels of the Unspeakables' lair. Having learned the identity of two of them, they are less wary of the others. What trials will the Unspeakables present? Stay tuned to find out in...

**Part 10: Testing**

Continuing down a hall after Jess and Seth, Albus noticed three doors. One was at the end of the hall, with one on either side of it. Seth opened the left hand door and ushered them in. Jess quietly thanked him, as did Albus. The door opened to a tiny room, with a table pushed up against one side and a red-haired man sitting on the table, swinging his legs. The room was just as hot as the rest of the building had been so far.

"Here, Colin, sign this," Jess said as she procured a piece of parchment and shoved it at the man on the table.

"Ok," Colin said slowly, "What does it say?"

"It's the 'Release of Identity' form," Jess answered.

"Oh, in that case..." Colin picked up a quill from the table and signed it, then whispered a word as he passed the parchment back to Jess.

Albus remembered meeting him at St. Mungos. He remembered the lad's days at Hogwarts.

Colin O'Colly, '75, Ravenclaw, some harassment because of his halfblood status, studious.

Another trustworthy fellow.

And it seemed that at least this part of the ministry did not focus on house when recruiting members. Family lines seemed to be less of an issue as well, since all three of the Unspeakables Albus had met so far were halfbloods, if he was remembering correctly.

"Well, Mr. Dumbledore," Jess began.

"Please, call me Albus," Albus interjected. If they were expecting him to address them by their first names, he could give them the same courtesy.

Jess dipped her head. "Well, Albus, this is the observation room." Seth squeezed past Albus and tapped his wand against one of the walls. Instantly, a window appeared, showing a brightly lit room with a short table and several instruments Albus did not recognize. A woman was checking one of the instruments.

"And that's the testing room, which we call 'the pen.' You and Colin will be able to observe everything from this room," Jess explained as Seth excused himself and left. "The room is magically shielded so no interference will mess up the tests."

Did this mean the bond would be practically turned off when Harry was in the room? No, it was unacceptable.

"Don't worry, though. You will still be able to stop the testing at any time if you want to, and any spells that are on Harry will be renewed when he comes out of the room."

Hmm, that should include the bond as well.

Albus remained silent for a bit, mulling this over. He would still have control, and to be honest, he was curious himself about the tests. What would they show? He knew Harry was excited, if a little scared. And it wasn't like Harry was completely defenseless either. He had taken on Voldemort, for Merlin's sake!

"Well, shall we get started?" Jess finally asked.

"Yes," Albus said, his curiosity outweighing his inner protests. He looked down at Harry and spoke to reassure him. "Harry, you'll go with Jess now, but I will always be watching. Will you go with Jess?" If Harry refused, Albus would walk out right now, whatever the Unspeakables may think of him.

Albus turned to Jess, and Harry reached out for her.

Jess stepped up to him and held out her hands, grasping Harry under his arms. "Hi, Harry, are you looking forward to all this?" she questioned. "Say bye to Albus, Harry."

Harry waved. "Bye, A'bus." He smiled as Jess took him out of the room. Albus waved after him, both of them preparing for what they knew would happen once they were separated by the shield.

Moments later, he felt an empty place in his magic, cutting off all feelings from Harry. He barely managed to stifle a gasp.

Harry!

The only other time the bond had disappeared was when Harry was near death, and indeed his heart had stopped beating. It was only through the efforts of young Neville Longbottom that Harry was pulled back to the land of the living.

It was the most terrifying moment of Albus' life, even surpassing the time just before Arianna's death.

He saw Harry enter the room on the other side of the window, crying as Jess carried him through. It took all Albus had not to run after Harry right then and hold him in his arms. Evidently they had both underestimated the feeling of severing the link.

Colin quickly brushed past him and tapped the window.

Jess turned Harry toward them and whispered to Harry. Harry looked up, and though he still whimpered, he was no longer bawling. "We're going to keep the window open so he can see you, Albus," Jess said. She turned her head back to Harry. "See, he's right there, watching, like he said he would."

Seeing that the Unspeakables were concerned about Harry's well-being relieved Albus somewhat. Although still uneasy about it, he realized that such a thing would be necessary.

Colin sat back on the table. "Cookie?" he asked.

Albus turned to him, noticing for the first time that, although Colin was wearing proper robes, his legs and feet were bare. Must be an Irish thing.

"They're white chocolate, macadamia nut," Colin explained, holding out a delicious looking cookie.

How did they know those were his favorite?

Albus gratefully accepted while continuing to watch Harry. As he munched his cookie, he grew even calmer. Belatedly, he realized they must have mixed a calming potion in with it.

That was probably a good thing.

As he watched, the woman in the pen with Jess signed a parchment, and memories flooded in.

Dakota Meeps, '77, Gryffindor, but usually ran with Hufflepuffs, very protective.

Albus noticed a tattoo on her back, partially concealed by the thin-strapped shirt she wore. It was a muggle religious symbol, a cross. Albus had visited a muggle church once, and the people had been kind and friendly.

This helped to ease Albus' feelings even more, and even brought more of his curiosity to the surface.

"How does that spell work?" Albus asked.

"Which one?" Colin questioned.

Albus looked to observe Colin, who was still swinging his legs but was now also eating a cookie. "The one you have up to protect your identities. I have never seen such a spell."

"Oh, well I'm sure you know how a notice-me-not spell works, right?" Colin said.

"I am familiar with it," Albus answered.

"Well, this spell is similar, but instead of eliminating the subject completely from your point of view, it makes it non-descript. You don't notice it because, in your mind, there is nothing very special to notice. A notice-me-not charm says 'there is nothing here,' which means if you have it on yourself, a lot of people run into you.

"People who are schooled in recognizing magic can know that something is concealed by a notice-me-not spell, but they don't know what the subject is. They can work it out logically, though. With this one, it coaxes the brain to think there is no puzzle with the subject, and that everything is perfectly normal about it. No puzzle, no solving. It was a bit of ingenious spellwork, I think."

"Indeed," Albus said. He looked back at Harry, who was being weighed by Unspeakable Dakota. Harry stared at the numbers on the scale and giggled, and Albus was also amused that he only weighed a stone and a half. It was a wonder that someone so little was destined to save the world.

"When the spell is lifted," Colin continued after taking another bite of his cookie, "the brain goes back to either the most recent memory or feeling about the subject. Whatever else you know of the individual slowly surfaces as time goes on. It takes time for your brain to catch up to the present, so to speak — suppressed memories and all. And, of course, when everything is said and done, you only know what you would have known if the spell was not on."

It made sense. "And how would one go about learning this spell?"

"You'd have to sign more papers, and the spell keeper would have to determine that you are in need of such a spell," Colin answered with a shrug.

"Spell keeper?" Albus had never heard of such a person.

"Yeah, he keeps track of all of the newly made spells like this. We can't have everyone running around with this spell. It would be a disaster."

"I see," Albus said. He would ask Jess about it when he next saw her. He assumed she would know best how to go about learning the spell.

Inside the pen, Dakota used a tape measure to measure around Harry's tummy, then measured how tall he was. She talked to him the whole time, making him giggle and even making Albus smile. These people knew what they were doing.

After that, Dakota unwound Harry's bandaged hand and looked it over, then bandaged it back. Albus could tell she was being very gentle.

The physical concluded with Dakota drawing a bit of Harry's blood. Harry puckered his lower lip but didn't cry. Albus was proud of him. It wasn't easy to keep from crying when having your blood drawn with a needle, especially for someone whose emotions were as unstable as Harry's were now.

"Why are you taking his blood?" Albus asked.

"We'll be running tests on it to see if whatever caused the AK cone was at a cellular level," Colin explained. "We can also make sure he doesn't have any lingering effects from the spells."

The door to the small room opened, and both Colin and Albus turned to see who it was.

David Scott, '74, Ravenclaw, brilliant but childish, imaginative but lazy.

"Heeeeellooooo," David said in a drawl and a half-salute.

"Ah, I guess I'm out," Colin said as he slid off the table. "This is—"

"David Scott, '74, Ravenclaw," Albus answered, in his element now that there was no spell to get in the way.

"Albus P.W.B. Dumbledore, 1892, Gryffindor," David responded.

"Ok, well I'll see you around," Colin said as he left the room.

Albus was impressed that young David would know the date he graduated Hogwarts. He knew it was a matter of public record, but still, it was impressive. He was curious as to the structure of David's mind. He lightly brushed his mind, just trying to get a feel for the lad.

"I feel that," David said before Albus even really got a good look.

Albus immediately pulled away his legilimacy. "My apologies. At this point in my life it's more of a habit." Curiouser and curiouser.

"That's ok," David said. He seemed amused.

O o O o O

David walked into the observation room to relieve Colin. It would be interesting to watch Seth trying to get Harry to play with the toys for the next test. Once Colin left, David noted Dumbledore trying to brush his mind.

"I feel that," David said. He knew Dumbledore would be intrigued and slightly frustrated, but there was no reason for Dumbledore to be in David's head. Luckily, he had to work with Anna, and having to keep people out of his head was second nature to him now. If Anna ever tried to read his mind on purpose, he probably wouldn't last long against her unless something unusually lucky happened, but this surface brushing stuff was cake.

Glancing through the window, he noticed Seth walking in to take over for Dakota. He had a small box with toys in it, and the box itself was a puzzle.

David picked up a cookie and walked over to the window, standing next to Dumbledore. "What's this next test?" Dumbledore asked.

"We're testing his intelligence," David answered. "In the box are all sorts of toys and games and puzzles to test him with."

"I see," Dumbledore answered. He seemed worried about something, but then, his new son was being tested by the Unspeakables. It was normal to be worried. Seth set the box in front of Harry and pressed a button on his watch.

O o O o O

The nice lady, Dakota, Harry recalled, had been gentle and understanding with him. Harry had even had fun, the baby part of him reveling in the attention while the adult part was almost put out at the idea that he weighed only a stone and a half. He knew she did not have the spell up that protected her identity, but he didn't remember anything about her from his 'future.' However, he currently was too concerned with the here and now to think much on it.

After she left, loneliness settled in on him again. He hadn't felt so alone since he was 17 and the Ministry was falling, overrun by dementors. He and Dumbledore had arrived with some of the Order to try and save it, but it was too late. Since the bond had formed that day, and after they had refined it with an ancient empathic spell, he had always had the comfort of knowing someone was near and cared about him. He had almost forgotten what it was like to live like the rest of the world, aware of only himself.

Harry was thrown from his loneliness by the door opening and Seth walking in. Seth was carrying a wooden box, and despite himself, Harry felt his curiosity spike. He MUST know what was in the box. He ran over to Seth, impatient with his baby legs that were much too short. He was worried. What if Seth took the box back before he got to see what was inside? His adult self chided himself for being silly, but was curious nonetheless.

Seth dropped the box on a low table in the middle of the room and pulled out a tiny chair. Harry ran over and pulled himself up on it, his feet and bottom for a few moments hanging in the air, then he was seated and reaching for the box. Seth pushed the chair closer and Harry couldn't help but giggle.

"Again!" he exclaimed, then clamped his mouth shut. The box was more important.

"No, I don't think so," Seth said as he pulled out another tiny chair for himself and sat on it. Even with his feet on the floor, his knees came up to his chest. He looked rather ridiculous, and Harry giggled again. Seth slid the box to Harry, who was wiggling in his seat in anticipation.

Harry reached for the box, nearly aching now to see what was inside. There was no lid. He held it, puzzled, then tried to pull it apart for a few frantic moments before growing frustrated and throwing it to the floor. It landed with a thump, but did not break.

He looked up at Seth, knowing that throwing things was bad. His mummy got upset when he threw things and took them away from him.

"Is that all you're going to try?" Seth asked.

Harry jumped out of his chair and reached for the box. He wanted IN! However, just before his hand touched the box, he paused. What was so special about the box, anyway? Why did he want in? The instincts that had been his during the war now resurfaced. A suspicious object with a compulsion to open it. Did they think he was stupid? He had thrown off the Imperius curse for Merlin's sake! He stood up and eyed Seth, crossing his arms.

His infant stubbornness combined with his adult desire to resist any compulsive spells. He knew his face was setting into a scowl, his eyes squinting in suspicion. Who was Seth, anyway? He would not give in!

O o O o O

Seth watched the kid bang the box around. Good thing it was unbreakable. Seth remembered when he had had to open the box as a test to join the Unspeakables. He had stared at it for a long time before realizing that in order to open it, one had to apply Castigliano's Theorem of Energy Conservation. One had to activate the runes in a certain order based on arithmancy to cancel out the charm that tied them to the box.

Of course one had to first get past the compulsion, then remember the basic RMS theorem, and this had taken Seth a long time. He had multiplied by a square root of two instead of dividing by it. He didn't expect Harry to be able to even distinguish the runes, but Seth thought that Harry's magic might be able to instinctively know what to do.

What the...

Harry was glaring at him, his stubby arms crossed. If he had been older, Seth would have said the look was one of reproach, a sort of, 'how dare you.' Surely, though, this was something else, maybe a pout because he couldn't get in?

Seth was not an expert at reading children, but even he knew this was no pout.

"Why don't you try again?" Seth said slowly.

Harry continued to glare, then pointed his finger and said something that sounded like gibberish to Seth. Was that an insult? It seemed very much like one. No, he was probably just frustrated.

"Don't you want to open it?" Seth asked, confused. A compulsion, even a light one like this, should have kept a toddler occupied for hours or until he opened it.

"No!" Harry said. "Bad!"

"It's not a bad box," Seth said, even more confused.

"Bad," Harry reiterated.

"No, it's not bad, I promise," Seth said incredulously. Why in the world did Harry think that? He leaned over and picked up the box himself. "See, there's all sorts of goodies in here. Surely you want to see."

Harry uncrossed his arms and a look of longing came over his face.

Seth, confident he had Harry's interest again, set the box down and slid it toward Harry. "Try again."

Harry kicked it and turned away from Seth, recrossing his arms. Seth stared at him, dumbfounded.

O o O o O

"What is he doing?" Dakota asked in the pit.

"Is that...?" Don began.

"It is," Curt answered. "Although why he thinks Harry can solve it is beyond me."

"If it was any of us, we could get it open," Colin said. "After all, we had to open it for our tests to get into the Unspeakables. Maybe he's testing to see if his magic reacts to the compulsion and the charms on it."

"Charms?" Dakota asked. "I remember there being a compulsion, but charms?"

"Yeah, you had to open it by deactivating the charms that connected the runes to the lid," Colin said.

"I just activated the runes for ground and lightning," Dakota said. "They were obviously the ones to activate, seeing as the runes were concerned with opposites."

"There were runes?" Don asked.

Everyone turned to look at him. "How did you open it, then?" Colin demanded.

"Never mind," Don answered.

A silence settled over them, but was then broken by Anna's giggle.

Jess glanced at her, then rolled her eyes. "You imperioed the proctor, didn't you."

"They said anything goes, and he was there, so he was at my disposal," Don stated defensively.

Anna giggled again.

"By Psylocke's Arse!" Curt exclaimed. "How is he resisting?"

Everyone spun around to look out the window. Harry was turned away from the box and had his arms crossed.

"He's so cute," Jess said.

"Seth?" Anna questioned absently.

Jess glared at Anna. "I'm engaged for crying out loud!" she exclaimed. "I was talking about Harry."

"You can still think he's cute," Anna answered, still in that absent sort of voice. "Harry's actively resisting the compulsion."

"Yes, and stubborn babies are cute," Jess answered, ignoring Anna's jibes.

"Unless you're the one trying to get them to do something," Dakota put in.

"No, I mean he knows that there is a compulsion; he's thinking of it as something attempting to influence him, and he doesn't like it," Anna said.

Jess turned to stare at Harry. "I see his magic protecting him from the compulsion. Can you tell if he's causing it or if the magic is acting on its own?"

"I already told you, he's actively resisting," Anna said with a slight smirk. "Seth doesn't know what to do, or what's going on."

"He called it 'bad' a bit ago, when you were arguing about whether Seth was cute or not," Curt explained.

"Well, that verifies your assessment, Anna," Colin said.

"Anna, let him know that Harry can sense the compulsion and tell him to take it off," Jess said with authority.

Anna's smirk faded until her face held no expression, then Seth pulled out his wand and cancelled the compulsion.

Immediately, Harry turned around to face the box.

"There, no more bad," Seth said.

Harry looked at the window where Dumbledore was, and Dumbledore inclined his head as if in invitation. Harry picked up the box.

O o O o O

Albus tensed up as Seth pulled out his wand. David had explained that the box could be opened in a variety of ways, most of them having to do with the runes that were inscribed on it. He had also explained that there was a compulsion on it.

Albus knew why Harry was opposed to messing with a compulsion. They had gotten both of them into some nasty places during the war. This wasn't something he would be explaining to the Unspeakables, however.

But when Seth unveiled his wand, Albus was afraid Harry would react badly to it, especially since he was also faced with the compulsion. Hopefully Harry wouldn't turn around until Seth was done casting.

"I guess he's going to deactivate the compulsion," David said.

Seth waved his wand over the box, then returned his wand to his pocket. Harry turned around, and Seth explained that it wasn't bad anymore. Harry looked up at Albus, as if he needed reassurance about the situation.

Albus nodded his head and smiled, trying to project that everything would be fine. Harry apparently got the message, despite no active bond, and began examining the box.

Now that there was no compulsion, Albus could see the runes inscribed on the box, but, from his view, could not tell what they said. During the siege of Hogwarts, when there was nothing to do but wait, he and Harry had gone over runes. Harry was no expert, but he could distinguish some of the more simple ones, and his mind worked in a way that he could see patterns without knowing all of the information.

Harry reached out and touched two of the runes, and the box lit up, then opened.

"Oooo," Harry said while looking in the box.

"Interesting," David said.

Albus was proud of Harry, but a bit worried that the Unspeakables would be more interested in his intelligence level now. He did not want their time travel to come out, at least not yet. Perhaps if they continued to stay in touch and Albus grew to trust them completely, he might reveal that.

Harry started pulling things out of the box, toys mostly. Some of them were geared toward toddlers and some for older children. He recognized some of the puzzles as even being from adult level tests of intelligence. The box held much more than it should be able to.

"Extra dimensional space?" Albus questioned.

"Of course," David answered.

Harry picked up a stuffed phoenix and let out a high pitched squeal, running around the room with it held over his head. Albus knew Fawkes would be insulted if he could see the display, but all Albus could do was laugh.

O o O o O

These tests were fun! Harry had gotten to play with all sorts of toys he had never even seen before. He was a little tired from running around the room, but was ready for the next test. Seth had already left the room but left the stuffed phoenix, which Harry was already calling 'Poon, behind. Harry picked it up and squealed again. It felt good to scream and make noise, and the baby part of him felt more fulfilled than it had since the older Harry had arrived in this time.

The door opened again and he turned to look. What fun would he have this time? He grinned in anticipation.

A man came through the door wearing full black robes. Harry looked up, and up, and up.

"Big big big big big!" he exclaimed with wide eyes. He had seen Hagrid, of course, who was much bigger, but somehow this was different. He didn't think he'd ever met this man.

"Hey, I'm Don," the man said.

"Hi!" Harry said. This man wasn't carrying anything, so what would he do?

"I'm gonna get your 'Poon," Don said with a slow grin.

A chase! This would be fun! "Mine!" Harry yelled, then giggled as he rolled under the table to get away. Don came running after, bending over to reach under the table.

Harry clamored out and ran around a chair. Don followed, chasing him around the table.

The bigger they are...

Harry pushed a chair toward Don, and Don nearly tripped over it, hitting his shins on the seat.

"Ow! You little booger!" Don exclaimed.

_"Avada Kedavra!" Green light rushed by Harry as he leaped out of the way. Don, a look of pure hatred twisting his face, held his wand out. His sleeve had slid down, revealing the dark mark. _

A death eater! Don had tried to kill him in the future! The tallness that had until now just been a bit goofy seemed something menacing. Harry screamed, flailing his arms and letting go of 'Poon, really running for his life. The tall, dark-robed man ran after him, without a wand, but still quite capable of killing a child.

O o O o O

Just after the box test and watching Harry play with toys, David left the room and the woman who had visited them in the hospital came in.

Anna Malfoy, '77, Hufflepuff, bullied, but generally cheerful.

"I'm looking forward to this," Anna began. "I don't think Don's ever chased anyone, at least not in fun."

"What do you mean?" Albus asked, his eyebrows rising a bit.

"For this test, we're going to try to exhaust him," Anna explained. "That way we can see how his magic reacts when he's tired."

"Why?" Albus asked. Surely his magic would react just as it would normally.

"We're trying to replicate the condition he was in on Halloween, well, without death eaters casting AKs at him," Anna explained bluntly.

"Do you think that's wise?" Albus asked. He didn't want anyone, especially Harry, to be hurt.

"Nope, but it's not my decision," Anna answered with a shrug and a half-smile. The smile seemed more of a twitch than of humor. He vaguely recalled that some incident before her coming to Hogwarts caused some sort of nerve damage, but couldn't remember exactly what.

A silence settled over them as they looked each other in the eyes. Albus was aware of some sort of pressure on his mind, but it quickly disappeared. Anna suddenly turned to face the window.

"Big big big big big!" Harry exclaimed as a tall man walked in.

Don Kringle, '73, Slytherin, one major conflict with Sirus Black, but an exceptional student otherwise.

Anna leaned against the window sill, smiling out of one side of her mouth. Dumbledore also watched Harry as he suddenly ran away from Don, giggling and squeezing his phoenix with his little arms.

He could see that Harry still recalled how to use his surroundings to his advantage when he dived under the table. He laughed when Don almost tripped over one of the baby sized chairs that Harry pushed in his way.

All seemed to be well until Harry's face changed. Fear, real fear, the pure feeling that is generally only felt by small children, passed over his face. Harry screamed, throwing his stuffed phoenix.

Anna was no longer smiling.

"Something's wrong," Albus said as he took a step toward the door, not taking his eyes off the spectacle in the pen.

The stuffed phoenix soared toward Don, flapping its wings and pecking him with his soft beak ruthlessly. Harry ran, before huddling in a corner behind a cabinet.

"Gah!" Don yelled, trying to bat the stuffed animal away. What had once been an inanimate object was now very animate. It charged Don again.

"A'bus!" Harry screamed.

At this, Albus yanked open the door, charged into the hall, and opened the door at the end, Anna close behind. To protect Harry, that was his priority.

Don was still fighting the bird, batting it away and exclaiming, "Get this...bloody...hell...GAH!" He tripped over a chair and hit the ground . . . hard.

The bond returned forcefully, Harry's emotions nearly overpowering him. Harry's fear was predominant, his anger second. Albus rushed to pick Harry up, turning back to face Don while protecting Harry with his arm.

Anna grabbed the bird and threw it out of the room, slamming the door after it. Soft thuds could be heard outside as Anna helped Don up.

"Bad, bad man, A'bus," Harry said shakily, burying his face into Albus' beard, his voice now only audible to Dumbledore. "Def 'ter."

A death eater? Surely not. But as Albus observed Don, who was awkwardly brushing imaginary dust from his robes, he became aware of a small feeling of dark magic. It was the same sort of feeling he had had around Severus after Voldemort had been vanquished the first time. The dark mark never truly disappeared, just faded until it was nearly impossible to detect.

"Roll up your sleeve," he demanded, pulling out his wand.

A look of 'uh oh' crossed Don's eyes before he rolled up his right sleeve.

"The other one," Albus demanded coldly.

Don hesitated.

"Merlin's pants, Don, just do it," Anna said forcefully. "No use you being all 'Slytherin' about this."

The soft thudding outside stopped and Jess walked in holding the now still phoenix. She approached Dumbledore and Harry.

Don glared at Anna, and she crossed her arms.

"Don infiltrated the death eaters to try to take out Voldemort," Jess explained softly, handing the phoenix to Harry, who hugged it to himself and sniffled.

"Why should I trust you?" Albus said, Harry now hiding his face against 'Poon.

"Because," Don said as he pulled out his wand.

Albus readied his wand, a curse on his lips.

Don broke in before he could cast. "I give my oath that what Jess said about me is true. When the Dark Lord returns, I vow to do the same. I want his death, and have no desire to harm you or Harry."

His magic confirmed this.

"Now you can trust me," Don said.

"Perhaps Harry's magic felt the dark mark like you did," Anna said, "and Don dressing in black robes probably didn't help."

Albus knew that an oath like that was binding, but he still wanted to get out of there and think things over.

"If you leave, we will not be able to finish these tests," Anna stated. "I'm sure you are just as curious as we are to see why his magic responds the way it does, especially after witnessing whatever he did to cause "'Poon" to bash Don to the ground...."

This gave Albus pause. He knew some of it was due to the time travel, but a great deal was still unexplained. Of course, Harry's safety and happiness were his greatest concerns, but it was a bit tempting to stay.

"We really don't want to hurt Harry," Jess stated. "We just want to know how his magic works so we can further understand the unforgivable, and perhaps save lives."

"Sorry," Don added, lowering his wand.

O o O o O

Crap. Everything had gone to pieces. Anna knew even she would have a hard time diffusing the situation, especially since both Albus and Harry had tight shields around their minds. Unless she got extremely lucky, there was no approaching it from that angle. However, as she thought about David and the events that occurred this morning, she became more confident. Surely everything would work out right.

"What if we take lunch, then do one more test?" Anna suggested. She could sense that Mr. Dumbledore was curious but had Harry's well-being at heart. As well he should. "We may not have the finest fare, but I know we have macaroni and cheese, or maybe some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches."

All the time she was speaking, Anna was sending a feeling of trust to Mr. Dumbledore and Harry. If she could get them calm, surely they would see the merit in continuing the tests. Mr. Dumbledore stood quietly, deep in thought.

Anna could feel emotions from Harry directed at Mr. Dumbledore. These were the result of the bond she had noticed, and she could see that Mr. Dumbledore was taking the feelings into account as he thought. Curiosity mixed with embarrassment flowed from Harry, and Anna wondered what he had to be embarrassed about.

"Very well," Mr. Dumbledore said, and Anna brought her focus back to him. "Lunch would do us both good, and we can make further decisions on a full stomach."

Jess nodded. "Well, Anna, go ahead and fix up the mac, but make sure you bring the water to a boil before you put in the pasta. Otherwise...mac...goo." At the syllables 'mac' and 'goo,' she lifted her hands and held them out in front of her waving them at each syllable to emphasize the words.

Anna half smiled. She had heard of the fabled 'mac goo' that Jess had created one time when her attention was on a difficult experiment. "Right, I'll do that," she said as she exited the room.

As she was about to close the door, she heard Jess saying, "And make sure the butter isn't bad, either."

Jess didn't have to worry about that. The way things were going, the lunch would come out perfectly.

* * *

A/N: Mac goo.... so sad.


	11. Past and Future

Disclaimer: Really? We don't own this? Are you sure? Darn, must have been a dream then.

**Question concerning:**

_Anna Malfoy_--Dumbledore and Harry both know her last name, just to make that clear. And don't worry, Harry and Dumbledore weren't born yesterday :P

* * *

**Part 11: Past and Future**

Albus sat at the corner of the table, a high chair around the corner for Harry. Unspeakable Anna sat across from him, with Jess next to her and an Unspeakable he had not yet met sitting next to him.

Curt Bishop, '75, Slytherin, very observant young man, cheerful, knew more about professional Quiddich players than anyone else Albus knew.

There was something else tickling the back of Albus' mind about Curt, but he couldn't identify it at the moment. It would come to him. The macaroni and cheese was delicious, and Harry had been given a child's spoon so he could feed himself. He was growing frustrated with the spoon, however, and was currently picking up the noodles with his fingers and placing them on the spoon to eat. It took all of his concentration. Albus chuckled a bit at Harry's independence, for he knew Harry would let none of the Unspeakables feed him, and didn't even like when Albus fed him. Stubbornness of a Gryffindor, pride of a Slytherin.

He noted that Unspeakable Don was at the other end of the table. Surely the seating arrangement had been created by a Slytherin.

As he thought this, he saw Anna smile a bit, seemingly at nothing.

"What is so amusing?" Albus asked. "Do I have something in my beard?"

"Other than hair, no," Anna answered. "At least not that I can see."

Jess, sitting next to Anna, smiled. Albus smiled as well, although he noticed she did not answer the first question.

"So, are there any potential professional Quidditch players graduating this year?" Curt asked.

Albus thought for a moment, going over those who were playing this year as well as who would play professionally in the future. "Hugo Lester, Ravenclaw," Albus responded. "Outstanding chaser, as long as no exams are imminent."

Curt chuckled. "Sounds like a Ravenclaw," he replied. There was no malice in his words, more of a humorous observation. "What are Slytherin's chances? Is Gary Moratz still playing?"

"When he's not serving detention with Minerva, he's an excellent seeker," Albus responded. "Actually, the Ravenclaw-Slytherin match should be very engaging this year." He recalled that things had gotten bloody on the field this particular match, but it had been very close. He resolved to attend the match this time around, just to prevent such overzealous behavior.

At this point, Harry grabbed a handful of noodles and stuffed them into his mouth, ignoring the spoon completely. He looked so cute with cheese all over his face. How he managed to get some on his forehead, Albus did not know. Harry stared down at the remaining macaroni, and Albus could feel mischief brewing.

"When is the match?" Curt questioned.

"Next Saturday," Albus answered, looking back at Unspeakable Curt. "It's the last match before break."

"I forget, can visitors come even if they don't know a student?" Anna asked.

"Yes, as long as you get it approved with me or one of the Heads of House," Albus answered. Catching a movement out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at Harry and laughed louder than he had since coming back to this time. Harry had two macaroni noodles on top of his eyebrows and one sticking out of his nose. Harry stuck out his tongue and tilted his head, the noodle in his nose threatening to fall.

"Now Harry," Albus began. "What made you think it was a good idea to put that in your nose? You know better." He chuckled anyway.

Harry sat up straight and pouted, but he pulled out the offending noodle, leaving the others on his eyebrows.

"I assume we should take this as a sign Harry is done eating?" Jess asked with a smile as Harry decided the very few noodles left in his bowl should form a noodle train.

"Choo-choo!!" Harry called.

"Ah, the Hogwarts' Express," Colin said, approvingly as Harry looked up at him and clapped.

"Hogwah 'wess!" Harry squealed happily as the yellow cheesy noodles suddenly changed colors.

Red noodles, the leading one mysteriously emitting gray steam.

"Ooooooo!" Jess said, seemingly in spite of herself, her eyes wide with wonder.

"Ooooooo!" Harry echoed, picking up the smoking noodle and sniffing up the steam. "Yummy?" he asked, waving it at Albus' face. "A'bus eat!"

"Um... No thank you, Harry. I'm quite full."

"Not like?" Harry asked, lip puckering up sadly as he fought a sniffle. Good thing that noodle wasn't still in his nose.

Although Albus knew it was primarily a show by the emotions stemming from Harry, it was still convincing. Harry's infant side was clearly showing itself. Perhaps he shouldn't have laughed so hard?

"But. . . it's smoking. . ." Anna said, speaking to Harry.

Harry turned to her with a look of, 'so?'

"And red. . ." Anna continued, unperturbed by Harry's look.

Harry blinked and concentrated.

"What...?" David asked as they all stared at the little noodle being held between Harry's thumb and forefinger.

It was now blue and glowing.

"Yum!" Harry said.

"Well, that looks a little more appetizing," Colin said.

"Mine!" Harry said, as if thinking Colin might take it. He gobbled it down, leaving a slightly glowing residue on his lips.

"Holy crap! How did he do that?" Curt exclaimed.

"Processing," Jess answered with a thoughtful look on her face.

Albus suddenly recalled Curt's voice saying the exact thing not too long ago. Or was it ages ago?

_"Holy crap! How did he do that?"_

_"It's a variation of the patronus spell," Albus answered, looking at Harry with pride as Harry's green, almost sizzling phoenix patronus soared around the room. "It can deter the living as well as dementors."_

_The three of them were holed up in an abandoned warehouse while they waited for Voldemort and his followers to lose their trail. Magic and trivia were being traded by the now bored Harry and Curt. _

_"Too bad we can't speed up time," Harry complained as he looked through a chink in the wall yet again, his patronus disappearing. Ah the impatience of youth._

_"Best I could do would be to go back in time, maybe an hour or two," Curt said absently, "not that that would help at all."_

_Harry sighed. "If only we could go back before the war even started," he said. There was no hope in either his voice or emotions. Harry knew from experience that messing with time produced unpredictable results._

_"Well, maybe we could," Curt said thoughtfully, "if we had something to anchor to."_

_"Anchor?" Harry questioned, hope creeping in._

_"Well, yeah, some magical event that isn't affected by time. Like if you wanted to go back to the founders when Hogwarts' wards were created. Of course, you'd need the foundations of Hogwarts still intact, since that's what the wards were linked to, and you could only go back to that point, with some margin of error."_

_ "Unchanged by time?" Albus said quietly. _

_"Yeah, something time won't erode. Something just as strong magically today as it was the day it was created," Curt reiterated._

_The three sat in silence for some time, then Albus suddenly had a thought._

_He leaped off of the crate he had been sitting on and grabbed Harry's head with both hands. Kissing the scar with tears in his eyes, he exclaimed, "Thank you! You blessed, blessed, evil Tom!"_

_"Gah!" Harry squirmed out of Albus' hands. _

_"Has he gone mad?" Curt cried out._

_Harry's eyes lit up as he understood. His mouth fell open. "Would that work?"_

_"Unchanged by time," Albus repeated, "a magical event."_

_"What?" Curt said._

_"A Horcrux," Albus stated, feeling his eyes twinkle as they hadn't in years._

Albus blinked.

He recalled the hours they had spent in the abandoned warehouse, calculating the exact moment to arrive, the exact amount of magical power to use, the exact coordinates needed, and everything else that accompanied such a time jump. Curt had known magicks Albus had never even heard of, and without him, it would have never been possible.

Seeing him as a part of the Unspeakables explained all of that. Suddenly realizing he must have dazed off, he glanced at the rest of the table. Harry and Anna were giving him strange looks, but no one else seemed to have noticed.

"Scotland," David said.

Everyone turned to stare at him. "What?" Seth asked.

"Well, I guess in his case it would be Dumbledore-land," David answered.

"What are you talking about?" Dakota demanded.

"The staring off into space," David answered with an air of superiority. "Dumbledore-land."

Several people blinked, Anna giggled, Albus smiled at the term he had never heard before.

"Interesting," Jess said, clearly thinking of something completely different.

"Dumbledore-land?" Colin questioned.

"No, the choo-choo," Jess answered seriously.

"Huh?" Seth asked.

"She just figured out how Harry changed the noodle, and apparently she found it interesting," Anna interpreted.

"Dumbledore-land? What?" Jess asked, apparently just realizing what had been said.

"Carter-land," Colin said.

"What?" Jess asked, now even more confused.

"Nevermind," David said. "Shouldn't we be starting the next test?"

"Well, if Albus is willing to," Jess answered, unperturbed by the wild changes in subject.

Albus thought about it. He had trusted Curt implicitly in the future, and this helped him make his decision.

"One more, perhaps, then we really must get back to Hogwarts," Albus answered.

"Huzzah!" David said as he stood.

"Huzzy!" Harry repeated, lifting his cheese-covered hands, noodles quivering on his eyebrows.

"But first, a scourgify," Albus said.

O o O o O

Jess stood completely motionless as she watched Harry play with 'Poon across the pen. The magic she had seen as a green, shimmering aura around Harry was similar to her own in movement, feeling, and power. She watched the magic ripple across his bandaged hand. Healing magic, she noted.

The bond which she had noticed from the moment Albus and Harry had entered was now absent. Anna had sensed strong emotions from Harry at least when the bond was blocked the first time. It made sense if he relied on it, but the bond couldn't have been in place for very long, so why the emotions? Colin had said that Dumbledore reacted at the same time, which was even stranger. One would think he'd be relieved to be disconnected from an infant's turbulent emotions, but he had seemed tense and uneasy, and, Colin also informed her, almost pained.

She looked down at her own hand, watching the iridescent wild magic ripple up and down it. When she was excited, as she was now, her magic grew harder to contain. She drew a calming breath. She would need all of her control if she was to find anything out.

Harry seemed calmer now, happily ignoring her. As before, he had become upset when he entered the shielded room; however, he calmed down soon after. Thank goodness.

She gathered her magic at her feet and sent it slowly creeping to Harry. It stretched her concentration, but her magic touched his. His magic recoiled from hers, then crept closer, uncertain. Harry himself seemed unaware.

The like yet unlike magicks observed each other, darting back and forth in a kind of dance she had never before seen. She did nothing; her magic controlled itself.

They suddenly wrapped around each other and Jess felt the purest, lightest magic she had ever felt coursing through her own.

Harry looked up in confusion.

His magic nearly overwhelmed her with its purity. However, something, somewhere was dark and pulsing, the pure magic keeping it at bay. The magic felt older, yet at the same time, younger than it should have.

Before this, magic had always seemed ageless.

She felt the magic retreating, yet to pull it back and experience it again seemed like it would be a violation of something sacred, so she let it go. As it let go of hers, she saw a glimpse of a double core inside Harry, the one without protecting the one within. His magic pulsed from the core with a rhythm indecipherable, but a rhythm just the same.

Her magic pulled back into herself as she once again became in charge, but the iridescence was now intermingled with patches of green. The green did not diminish the iridescence, but enhanced it, as if the magicks belonged together. She noted a similar phenomenon with Harry, who was now sleeping with a smile, his magic pulling close like a blanket.

She nearly fell into one of the chairs, her knees weak.

Jess felt more alive, yet at the same time, more exhausted, than she had ever felt.

O o O o O

Albus held a sleeping Harry close, nappy bag on his arm, and accepted the coin Colin gave him. The last test had been the strangest. Jess had stood in one place, doing nothing, saying nothing. Harry had played for awhile, then looked up, yawned and went to sleep. After this, Jess sank into a chair as if exhausted.

That was it.

Afterwards, Jess's dark eyes sparkled much like his own did when he was excited or pleased.

He had plied Curt, who had accompanied him to the observation room, with questions, but Curt had not explained much. He had said that Jess saw the world a bit differently, but he couldn't describe it.

Albus had noted that Curt used the word 'couldn't' rather than 'wouldn't.'

Curt _had _explained that the test was to see how Harry's magic reacted to magic. It had interested Albus, but Curt didn't elaborate.

At any rate, it was time to get back to Hogwarts, as the wards wouldn't calculate themselves. Jess told him she would get the results of the tests to him in about a week, as long as everything went smoothly.

He thanked her, spoke the spell, "Portus," and found himself back in his office, in exactly the position he had left.

Those Unspeakables were an intriguing bunch.

O o O o O

Jess walked to the front of the conference room, looking over each of her subordinates. The group for once sat completely silent, their eyes on her. "So," Jess began as she pulled out the chair at the head of the table, "thoughts?"

O o O o O

Albus, a sleeping Harry resting on his shoulder, entered his office and made his way to the nursery. With a wave of his wand, he changed Harry's clothes into a warm purple sleeper with sparkling little fish 'swimming' around. He knew he would get an earful of baby ranting the next morning, but he was more than happy to bear it when it came.

"There we go, my boy," Albus whispered, laying Harry down in the crib and tucking him in with a kiss on his forehead. "Sleep well."

Harry gave a slight gurgle in his sleep, pulling the blanket toward himself in his little unbandaged fist.

Albus smiled as he walked out, leaving the door slightly ajar as he went into his own room.

After reading and thinking for about two hours, he got himself ready for bed, sleeping cap and all. Settling under the covers, he gratefully surrendered himself to sleep, exhausted after everything that day with the Unspeakables. . . .

**_Harry stood up, ecstatic about being over three feet tall. He was once again an adult, though he didn't really know why or how at the moment. He was walking across Hogwarts' grounds and making his way to the quidditch pitch._**

_Albus took a sip of tea as he looked back down at the chessboard before him. Minerva was beating him again. He wondered if it would be considered cheating if he charmed one of the knights not to go where she told it._

**_Harry took out his wand and unshrunk his broom, before mounting and zooming up into the beautiful sky, totally free._**

_Albus tried just that when Minerva had momentarily turned her back to the board. She had charmed his lemon drops a few times, so this was excused as payback. "Knight to C3," Minerva said calmly, though a hint of triumph was beneath. The knight moved to C5. "What! I told you C3 you blasted little marble figure!"_

_"Minerva, take pity on the poor knight. His marbles must have taken one too many beatings throughout our years of playing."_

_"Easy for you to say, Albus, your pieces have never disobeyed you before."_

_Albus shrugged, about to tell his bishop to take Minerva's disobedient knight, but the black bishop suddenly grew as everything surrounding them shifted completely._

**_Harry dove, taking in the fresh air and embracing it as it brushed against him, but then the sky darkened, and he fell._**

_Albus turned, having apparated into the midst of a new battle. There were already casualties, more innocents than not, and a bright green Dark Mark in the night sky…. Where was Minerva?_

_The scene shifted again, displaying burning buildings, dead bodies, and tortured souls in quick and painful flashes. Agony, sorrow, regret, fury, and loss saturated each even more than the previous as every moment became stronger and surfaced with a force so unrelenting it could not be ignored. **Another scene, practically random with feelings not completely his own, revealed death eaters around him as he stated in a raspy evil voice that one of them was a traitor, and he knew who it was. **He saw the Ministry fall, death eaters claim positions, and laws pass that may as well have outlawed morality and goodness altogether.** He then turned his eyes to a dark robed Severus as another dark form rose from his ranks.**_

_He saw muggleborns segregated and forced into submission, either through slavery or some other form of outright public humiliation. _

**_"Avada Kedavra!" Green light rushed by him, but he had seen it, and leapt out of the way just in time as the form followed up with a string of curses. Who dared attempt to curse him?! His eyes focused on the one responsible, finding one of his followers glaring at him with a look of pure hatred twisting his face, his wand out. _**

_He saw death and levels of despair he had not thought possible before, surpassing the things he had witnessed during the years of Grindelwald. **He twisted about, blocking the other spells with relative ease as he said, "I should have known there was another, but I would have never thought you, after all of your years of loyalty." **He saw that infernal ring on Voldemort's finger during the times they dueled, the symbol of the Deathly Hallows etched onto its surface — the Resurrection Stone — the very thing that made Voldemort's reign of terror into one of complete domination and supremacy. With it not only came armies of Inferi, but hundreds of horrible dark spells, thanks to Voldemort calling dark shades from the dead and requesting them to share their ancient knowledge of terrible and great magic with him._

**_"Nobody's perfect. Not even you, Lord Voldemort!" the man shouted as he continued his barrage of spells and curses, striking down over five death eaters in the way as Severus escaped. Oh, he would kill this man._**

_He saw Hogwarts burning and her walls crumble into the earth, not even leaving ruins to show a glimpse of her former glory. After the flames had diminished and the dust had cleared, there was no longer even a recognizable foundation of the castle — the castle that had sheltered over fifty generations of the Wizarding World._

**_The man was finally struck down furiously by his own hand, but only after half of his inner circle had been utterly decimated. This man's wrath could rival his own. "Don Kringle," he said, his pale but powerful hand rising before him, "You disappoint me, what have I ever done to you?"_**

**_"Return," the man managed, before his life finally departed from him. _**

_He saw his friends die — Filius, Hagrid, and Minerva…._

**_The dream shifted, showing Ron, Hermione, Luna…._**

_He saw Harry fall, taking a spell right in the chest as Kingsley died beside him. He felt the bond diminish, tearing at his magic as his magic desperately tried to hang on to it. _

**_Remus, Tonks, Dobby…._**

_The scene shifted to a passing glimpse of the massacre at St. Mungos. _

_All dead. **All lost.** All fallen._

Albus sat up in a cold sweat, silent tears covering both of his cheeks as a pulse of thick emotion continued to pour in from Harry's end. He knew whatever pain he was feeling, Harry was feeling as well. He pushed his covers away, ignoring his shaking hands and ragged breathing.

"Harry!" Albus shouted, stumbling forward and making it into the next room where Harry was. Quickly moving forward, his limbs still heavy, he reached down and promptly woke Harry from the obvious nightmare.

Upon waking, Harry released a sob, garbling Albus' name as he managed to lift his arms and cling to his mentor.

"Hor'ble . . . hor'ble," Harry cried. "Two . . . o'erlap . . ."

"I know," Albus said, his voice raw as well, unable to prevent himself from recalling the images that had surfaced in his sleep, including the one of Unspeakable Don Kringle.

This had happened a few times before, but never to this degree. Before, the most that had ever passed between them in their sleep were very quick clips of scenes with the emotions tied to them. Never before had their dreams overlapped as they had here.

"Let's head to the kitchens . . . I feel we both need some air," Albus said quietly after a deep quavering breath.

Harry nodded silently against him, still trembling and near tears.

O o O o O

It was Filius Flitwick's night to patrol the halls, and he walked down them in silence, though, as always, there was a smile on his face.

Shaking his head, his thoughts went back to the previous week of catching two third years sneaking off to place some prank near the entrance to the dungeons. That had cost them twenty points and two detentions each. It would have been more, but the spell work with the would-be-harmless-prank had been too impressive to seriously punish. Granted, things would have been different if: a) it had been sloppy work, or b) it had been dangerous/obscenely malicious.

Since it was neither, Flitwick felt the punishment he dished out had been fair for two Gryffindors wishing to charm a few unfortunate Slytherin robes into ones with a roaring lion head on the back.

Flitwick pondered how long it had taken them to figure out the finer points of the spell to make the lion harmless and roar consistently. His thoughts were suddenly pushed aside when he heard someone making their way down the hall around the corner.

_Ah, another prankster, perhaps?_ he wondered. However, that guess was squashed when he heard the faint sound of crying.

That spurred him to hurry to whoever was wondering the halls at that time of night, but what he found as he turned the corner made him halt.

Albus, rocking a weeping Harry in his arms, was headed down the hall. If Flitwick's sight was accurate, Albus's own shoulders were quavering ever so slightly, as if he himself was fighting with his own emotions.

"Albus?"

Albus stopped and slowly turned around. "Good evening, Filius," he said softly.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes, though it seems little Harry is having difficulty falling back to sleep, so I felt I should try giving him some warm milk from the kitchens," he said, the candlelight barely allowing Flitwick to see his face clearly.

"It's 2 am, Albus, I'm sure you could have called one of the house elves."

"Ah, well, I thought it might do Harry some good to get out of his room for a little bit."

Harry sniffled.

"I see. Well, if you don't mind, I'll join you. A nice mug of hot cocoa does sound good right now," Flitwick said.

"Of course," Albus said gently, not noticing, or perhaps ignoring, how Harry was wiping his snotty and teary face on the shoulder of his robes.

Flitwick couldn't help but give a slight smile in amusement, before he stepped beside Albus and headed to the kitchens alongside him.

Tickling the pear, they entered the kitchens, house elves instantly gathering around them.

"Kind Professor Flitwick sir, and Great Headmaster Dumbledore sir! Oooh! And young Harry J. W. P. Dumbledore sir!" they cried. "What cans we do for sirs?"

"Just a round of hot cocoa for myself and Filius, thanks," Albus said simply.

"And for the great Harry Dumbledore, sir?" another asked.

"A very small sippy cup of warm milk with a dash of chocolate. We do want him to sleep tonight after all," Albus answered.

They quickly got their drinks, Flitwick's eyes never straying far from Harry's dozing form.

"Is he having nightmares?" Flitwick asked after a moment.

Harry was slowly drinking up his chocolate milk, his eyes growing heavy.

Albus sighed softly. Flitwick took that as a probable yes. He silently wondered if it was normal for children as young as Harry to have nightmares, but he already knew the answer.

"After what he has been through, it is understandable. How often?" Flitwick asked, knowing Albus didn't really have anyone else to speak to. He had Minerva, of course, but Flitwick had noticed how Albus glanced at her when he thought no one was looking. It was a look between that of gratefulness and great unbelievable pain. He assumed correctly Albus would not be sharing any dark feelings with Minerva anytime soon. He treasured her too much.

Albus put his cup down, careful to not disturb Harry who was now sleeping while clinging to his sippy cup.

"I know he has woken up a few times over the past few nights, due to an instrument I have on my desk in my office, but he has gone back to sleep without much trouble, and before now he hasn't had trouble past 11. Tonight though. . ." Albus said.

"He woke you up?"

Albus sighed, internally fighting with himself about allowing Flitwick to believe what he saw or not. He shook his head slightly. No, he wouldn't start his and Harry's second chance with pointless misguidance. He wouldn't lay it all out there, of course, but he wouldn't mislead anyone if it wasn't absolutely necessary. And though this wasn't that big of a deal, he knew if he started now it would be hard to redraw the line.

"No, I woke up on my own, though I quickly realized Harry wasn't sleeping well," Albus said.

"Wasn't sleeping well _either_, you mean," Flitwick said, knowingly, his nearly constant smile disappearing.

Albus sipped his hot cocoa, knowing he should have realized the Head of Ravenclaw would have caught on. Somehow he felt better now that someone else knew, however.

"Have you talked to anyone about them?" Flitwick asked softly.

Albus shook his head. "They'll go away in time."

"Albus . . . there's no need to keep them to yourself. It is only natural after what has happened. I think talking about them to someone will help."

Albus took another sip.

Flitwick sighed. "Are they about what happened on Halloween?"

"Some," Albus replied, which was true. Some of the worst things Voldemort did during the war were on Halloween. It was some twisted tradition of his. And each one became worse than the previous one.

Flitwick was silent for a time, part of him greatly concerned for his friend, but also saddened. Why hadn't he spoken to anyone about this? Clearly what he had witnessed at Godric's Hollow had caused old, perhaps suppressed, memories to resurface, and he could only imagine the horrors Albus had witnessed in the previous war. He knew of some of the terrible things Grindelwald had done, having participated in the war himself, but he hadn't been at the forefront as Albus had. Sure, Voldemort was ruthless, but the recent war, when looked at in the grand scheme of things, had nothing on the war with Grindelwald. That war had been intertwined with a horrid muggle world war, warped by international politics, both muggle and magical, and had taken over a dozen countries down the spiral of utter chaotic turmoil.

"Are you seeing the war again?" he finally asked, Harry now sleeping soundly in Albus' arms.

Albus gave a small start, something Flitwick had only seen him do once before, causing Harry to stir slightly before going still once again. "What?"

"Grindelwald."

Flitwick tried not to grow alarmed at the look on Albus' face, but how was he supposed to take the pained smile now on his face?

"I wish," he whispered.

"W-what are you seeing then?" Flitwick couldn't help but ask. Something wasn't right.

"What could be if the Wizarding World does not see reason," Dumbledore stated. Flitwick frowned.

"What do you mean, Albus?"

Albus shifted Harry into a more comfortable position. Albus didn't really know what to say, didn't know how to explain what he meant, at least in a way that wouldn't make him truly appear senile.

"Albus, what happened in that house? What happened that night? You've changed. You've entered into terrible scenes similar to that and risked your life before; what made the Potters' so different?" Flitwick asked.

Flitwick noticed as he spoke how Albus' eyes lowered onto Harry and traced his face, his free hand gently grasping Harry's good hand after softly giving his bandaged one a pat.

"I don't know how to answer you," Albus whispered truthfully, after a long stretch of silence.

"Albus . . . did, did something—" Flitwick swallowed, trying to collect his words properly as he mentally went through everything he knew again.

Dumbledore adamantly chose to become Harry's guardian, protector, and father.

Dumbledore had recently become alarmingly emotional.

Dumbledore remained an eccentric old man, only worse, now that he has an infant to model after while somehow caring for.

Dumbledore had decided it best to bring Harry and himself down to the kitchens after both of them being unable to sleep well.

Flitwick briefly closed his eyes.

But . . . it was impossible, wasn't it? But there was no other explanation. It had to be.

"Did it form because of some kind of shared life debt?" Flitwick gently questioned.

Albus seemed resigned at Flitwick coming to such a conclusion.

"I don't know."

It was true, he didn't know why or how the bond had initially formed, only that it had, after. . . .

_Standing alone, back to Albus and ringed by hundreds of dementors, stood the last survivor. She was swathed with a halo of silvery light, which seemed to keep the screeching creatures at bay. As Albus began to raise his wand to cast his patronus, the woman raised both of her arms, her hands out to the side. A flash of silver blinded him, and when he regained his sight, the woman had collapsed, surrounded by smoking piles of ash._

_The first ring of dementors was just _gone.

_She weakly raised her left hand again, and something glittered on her finger as more silver mist poured from her hand. The mist took a shape, but this was no animal._

_This was a man, and he was angry. He glanced down at the woman, who was no longer surrounded in the light but looked either asleep or dead._

_With a blood-curdling yell, the man-patronus charged the nearest dementor and slammed his hand right into its hood. The dementor screamed with what could only be pain and withered on the spot._

_All thoughts of rescue left Albus as his mind tried to grasp what was happening. He had never before seen wild magic so controlled. The silver, translucent man leaped over the woman's body and thrust his hand into the next dementor, which swelled up and burst like a balloon. _

_At this, all the dementors charged him at once. Bright flashes of light were all Albus could see, that and a broiling mass of dementors._

_Albus was brought back to the task at hand when Harry rushed past him, conjuring a patronus as he ran._

_"Harry!" Albus shouted as he ran after him. Harry paid him no mind as he rushed in to save the woman. The silver stag he had conjured ran right into the thick of it, goring dementors in an attempt to reach the woman. He cast another, and another._

_"Expecto Patronum!" Albus cast from behind, sending a silver phoenix to help and running after._

_Albus watched with horror as dementors surrounded the man-patronus, piling on top of him. Harry directed his stags to free the man. With the dementors held off for the moment, the man-patronus picked up the woman and handed her to Harry. As soon as she was in his arms, the man disappeared._

_Harry's patronuses flickered and one winked out of existence. _

_Albus yelled for Harry again as the dementors surrounded him. Harry's arms were full, holding the woman that he would not put down. Five dementors reached for him, their arms brushing his shoulders, back, and face before Albus' patronus swooped down and around him, repelling the dementors just enough to create some breathable air space._

_The woman stirred in his arms and barely opened her eyes._

_Albus saw her suddenly reach up and grab his shoulder as he reached for Harry's back._

_"Tell Don I love him," the woman said. _

_"Harry, we must leave now," Albus stated._

_The dementors pressed in, reaching for their faces. A few rotting arms even grasped at the woman's face._

_Albus pulled Harry's shoulder, blocking out Arianna's screams, and they managed to turn about to head out._

_The woman shuddered, and Harry gripped tighter so she wouldn't fall. He stumbled as the dementors pressed closer; Albus continued to steer him to the distant exit. This was bad. _

_The woman jerked as iridescent smoke began to gather around her, pouring from her center. Harry let out a shout of surprise._

_Here everything became jumbled; the smoke was all around them. Two minds became one. The smoke receded into Harry and himself, and they fought the dementors, shouting spells in perfect sync as they made their way to the ward edge. The dementors fell back as they reached it, and they apparated out._

They had been one that day, and only after finding an ancient spell to control the phenomenon did they again become two. The spell, a part of an ancient Welsh brotherhood ritual, gave the powerful magic a specific purpose to carry out, that is until a greater purpose supersedes the assigned default. The bond that remained let them fight side-by-side without speech. Albus knew that someday the bond would have to be broken, but for now it was useful — had purpose — especially since Harry could not currently speak very articulately.

Albus suddenly realized the woman in the ministry had been Jess Carter, the leader of RDHPIT. His eyes widened.

"Albus?" Flitwick asked, slightly concerned at the old man holding an infant who was clearly out of it.

"Dumbledore-land, sorry," Albus whispered, a twinkle in his eyes as they refocused.

"I'm sorry?" Flitwick asked, now confused.

"Something someone said about me today. Evidently it refers to when you go into your own little world for a moment. Everyone has one. I believe you fall into yours when you eat chocolate cream pie?"

"Hmm, Flitwick-land . . . a good place if I do say so myself," Flitwick said with a smile, before growing serious again. "How strong is it, the bond?"

"He feels my emotions, I feel his. Not much to say, really," Dumbledore said simply.

"Albus, sharing emotions is never a simple thing. I don't know a huge amount in such things, but overlapping emotions can cause accidental magic — not only for children," Flitwick said pointedly.

"I've remained in control, if that is what you are asking," Dumbledore said lightly.

"Are you sure? Both of the times I've stumbled on you and Harry in the halls I've found, not only Harry in distress, but you as well. It will only get stronger and harder. Harry's core will continue to mature, and with that, have you considered the effects it will have on both you and him?"

"We will handle it if and when it comes. Harry is strong and I am sure he will adapt, just as I will, to this. We have no choice but to do so."

"Ah, but you have a choice in _how_ to do so. Don't forget the new staff member. Her skills also branch into things that affect magic, including emotions, as I am sure you know," he said with a smile. "You hired her after all."

Albus nodded as they both looked down at Harry resting peacefully.

"Well, I do believe you should tuck someone into bed," Flitwick said.

"I do believe you're right." Albus smiled, putting his mug down onto the counter beside them before carefully standing up. Flitwick gently fell off his chair, somehow landing gracefully onto the floor. Practice makes perfect, it seems.

* * *

A/N: So, thoughts? And don't be sad that we haven't answered some questions directly. All will be revealed in due time.


	12. Older

Disclaimer: Really? We don't own this? Are you sure? Darn, must have been a dream then.

**Question concerning:**

_Time jumps_: Funny this was asked (several times we might add), as this chapter is the time jump. We would apologize for taking our time to get to this point, but characters had to be developed and a few things had to be explained.

_Length_: We don't know how many parts this will be exactly, but we have already planned it all out, including the ending. We have even written an outline and everything, it's pretty amazing that it's all been sorted out, actually. But anyway, we do know that the war with Voldesnort will all be said and done before Harry officially starts Hogwarts. Hope that puts some of your minds at ease.

_Legilimency_: There is a natural type and a learned type. Riddle would be a person with a low natural ability (since he had to train himself to strengthen it). Anna would be a person with a high natural ability (since she has it 'on' all the time to a certain extent). Hope that answers the question.

_Harry ship_: We haven't set anything in stone, but take comfort in the fact he won't die a lonely man. Also note, Harry. is. not. gay.

* * *

**Part 12: Older**

Harry shifted forward in his little seat, gripping the crayon firmly as he brought the blue tip onto the parchment. With his tongue against the corner of his mouth, he pressed the colored wax onto the page, curving it around to make a perfect circle.

Runes. Marvelous things, really, especially when one was too young to do anything else, at least things people would notice and find . . . odd; not that they would really make a fuss over Albus Dumbledore's heir learning magic, it was just something else Harry didn't want to have to deal with.

He was almost five and a great deal had changed since he was an infant. He put the blue crayon down and picked up a red one. Very much by accident he learned a new dynamic with runes. The color one used to draw them affected their strength, balance, and how they worked with other runes. It was something no book he had ever read covered, though, he seriously doubted any witch or wizard tried drawing runes with anything but a wand or a quill, let alone crayons — a muggle writing utensil.

That was another thing, now that he thought about it. Crayons themselves were surprisingly magical, or at least conducted magic extremely well. He didn't know if it was the waxy materials the muggles used to make them, or the fact that their very purpose was to help people (particularly children) express their creativity and release their imaginations onto sheets of paper, but because of their usefulness, he made them a part of his rune crafting gear.

He grabbed a brown crayon as he turned to the next page of his (or rather Papa's) rune book.

He shook his head, recalling the moment he had begun using that title—Papa, for Albus.

_He was about 18 months old, running ahead of Albus and barely keeping control of his stubby toddler legs down a mildly steep incline on the way to Hagrid's hut. Well, the loose control he had over his motor functions soon failed, making him topple face first down the rocky surface._

_His knee landed first onto a cruel rock, followed by both of his hands onto harsher stones. Pain flared up his limbs, more so in his right hand as he heard Albus shout out his name. All rational thought was pushed aside as his right hand surged with a shearing heat, clearly protesting against the landing, and before he even knew he had opened his mouth, he heard himself cry out, 'PAPA!'_

_Albus, of course, was immediately there, instantly healing the cut on his knee and the scrape on his left hand. His scarred right palm was angry red, but the skin hadn't been broken, so Albus applied a cooling charm._

_Now back under relative control, he looked up at Albus, unable to keep himself from feeling embarrassed, but seeing his mentor's face, all of his thoughts diminished as he took in surprise, delight, and joy through the link and from the man's old face._

From then on, he called Albus, 'Papa'. The professors, of course, thought it was absolutely adorable, and, to Harry's horror, cooed over him even more. His only solace was watching the professors' eyes turn to Albus and chuckle, clearly amused by their headmaster's parental joy.

Harry smiled at the memory, nearly finished with drawing the Preserving Rune.

Later, after he had gotten used to saying 'Papa', he admitted to himself that he had already been subconsciously referring to Albus as Papa for sometime before that tumble. It was only natural he would begin doing so consciously.

Harry slowed his hand as it brought down a sharp line on the page. His right hand, which bore the large 'AK' scar, was just as dexterous as his left, if not more so because of its sensitivity, but he used his left hand to write most of the time. The only reason he wrote with his right at times was because of habit, but he found himself having to stop when he was drawing runes. His hand would become itchy, as if a mist of itch powder had burst from the page onto his palm. It was more annoying than painful though, but it did get him wondering if using his right hand while drawing runes would affect their performance. He decided to look into that at a later date.

He looked up at Fawkes, who was sleeping quietly on the perch next to Albus' desk. Albus was at the ministry and had told Fawkes to keep an eye on Harry. Harry shook his head. It was a good thing he behaved himself . . . most of the time. However, knowing Fawkes, he was probably faking his nap to test if Harry would behave himself, despite the appearance of having no one watching him.

Harry looked back down on his little desk-table.

The moment Harry had been old enough to believably sit down and draw or play on a short table, Albus had enlarged the office and constructed a little corner office for Harry to use (partly enclosed by a half wall). Minerva thought it was cute, and Flitwick often called Harry 'the mini-headmaster.' The students thought along the same lines, especially when he started wearing charmed robes. Hey, embroidered owls were cool, especially when they were charmed to glide around your sleeves.

Glancing at the rune in the book, he refocused on his crayon-drawn rune. Adding the appropriate lines and dots, Harry thought back to the first batch of results the Unspeakables had shared with them three and a half years ago. Evidently, Harry had two cores (not that that was anything Albus and he didn't already know) and it seemed one of them was protecting the other. Both were very strong, but it seemed they were emitting a unique sort of magic — wild magic.

Unspeakable Jess explained that she believed this wild magic was responsible for the events that Halloween, and that it seemed to have some level of awareness, more so than other people's magic. That was news to Harry and Albus, and Albus was quick to ask their opinion on what should be done.

The Unspeakables had been in agreement in the advice of looking into it and trying to teach Harry to perhaps control it, or at the very least learn to be aware of it, but due to his age and current inability to properly comprehend (Harry tried his best to ignore that comment) they would have to wait until he had grown old enough for them to begin. Albus agreed, but Harry and he privately decided to begin as soon as possible on their own.

Not long after the results of the first round of testing had been shared, Albus carried out the repairs and improvements to the wards of Hogwarts. The school now had a much more powerful feel and, recalling how Hogwarts was in their future, it was much more daunting to an invader. The ghosts had also become stronger, so much so that they were a force to be reckoned with should anyone wish harm to Hogwarts and her inhabitants.

Peeves had also changed. He was still a troublemaker, but he no longer had the annoying and heartless sort of attitude, and his pranks only occurred when the stress of classes were beginning to build for students and, yes, professors. No longer a complete menace, he became a morale booster for the school. Peeves reminded Harry and Albus of the twins.

Another change in Hogwarts had also occurred, and it centered around one individual. Rebekah Lovegood. Her gentle but straightforward demeanor with the students helped a great deal in helping them cope with all sorts of problems, personal and communal, within the student and staff body. Harry and Albus both noticed an improvement in overall student attitude, and inner House conditions. Problems caused by the war that had hurt families had also been reconciled, at least to a bearable level, soothing over a certain amount of hatred toward individuals who had the misfortunes of being related to certain criminals. Initially, it had been group sessions, in which Albus personally attended to get a better idea of how things were. What he learned didn't exactly surprise him, but actually seeing what one suspects can still make an emotional impact. Those in the meeting, made up primarily of individuals related to death eaters, got to hear first hand some of what Dumbledore had to come to terms with; such as what he did (positive and negative) before and during the war against Grindelwald. After that, the Slytherins (primarily) looked at Dumbledore in a different light, as well as with increased respect.

Albus and Harry were both hopeful this would positively affect circumstances later, particularly in future death eater numbers.

Relations between the Houses had also changed somewhat, particularly between Slytherin House and Gryffindor. With the help of Rebekah, Albus had blurred the lines between the Houses somewhat, uniting them in activities that improved the school as a whole, such as cook outs and 'bake sales' (Albus really enjoyed those), rather than simply having Quidditch to round the Houses together. There was still the powerful rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor, as there had always been, but the stifling hatred between them had been melted away. It was now more of a potent sibling rivalry fighting for some kind of family honor. Still rough, yes, but no longer dangerous.

Rebekah, who occasionally brought Luna to serve as a playmate for Harry, also helped Albus and, unknowingly, Harry.

Nightmares were something both Harry and Albus had to deal with occasionally, it was just something they had accepted as part of their lives. However, that changed when Rebekah heard of Albus' nightmares. After grudgingly admitting about having them, he spoke to her about them a little, just enough to ease the burden of them. That had started a few weeks after the renewing of the wards. Not long after that, she picked up on the few hints Albus occasionally dropped and learned about the bond. This assisted her in helping Albus prevent/limit the problems Flitwick had pointed out.

Harry put the crayon down before picking up the page to hold it up to the light, making sure he had applied the crayons' colors evenly.

Albus and Harry continued seeing the Unspeakables and had actually grown quite close to them. They were still clueless about Harry and Albus being time travelers, at least as far as Harry knew, but they had stumbled upon a number of other interesting things.

They had recently discovered the trouble with his scar, and had informed Albus that they would vigorously look for solutions to the problem. They said they had already come up with a few options, but considering the risks with each, they would continue looking. Albus agreed wholeheartedly when they shared said options with him.

One, Harry was later told by Albus, involved carefully controlled Fiendfyre. Harry quickly agreed for them to continue looking as well.

This development also prompted Albus into revealing the horcrux hunt with the Unspeakables, since they already understood that as long as this horcrux was tied to Harry's scar — and thus tied to his life — Voldemort was not truly dead. Jess and the others quickly offered their assistance in finding and destroying the other horcruxes Voldemort had likely created. Albus didn't reveal how he knew or where he believed the others were (since he didn't honestly know now — he was sure Narcissa had most likely moved them). He did, however, reveal that he was certain they were items of historic importance, most likely Hogwarts related, and that there may be up to seven (not including Harry as it was very unlikely Voldemort had intended for that to happen), since Voldemort was obsessed with that being a 'magic' number.

At this time, Albus had managed to dispose of the ring and the diadem with basilisk venom he had secured by killing the basilisk the previous year (thanks to Harry teaching Albus how to say 'open' in parseltongue and a determined yet oblivious rooster).

It had been an interesting conversation with Nicolas Flamel why/how he had procured a shrunken basilisk carcass for Severus Snape to take out of Hogwarts. . . . But all ended up well, and Snape was thrilled (not that he showed it) to have been given such rare ingredients (minus eighty-percent of the venom — neither Snape nor Nicolas questioned it).

Another thing the Unspeakables had learned was Harry's affinity with chaotic or wild magic. The day they began teaching him, Jess quietly referred to Harry as a prodigy to Albus. Albus' eyes twinkled in pride, hiding the fact he wasn't completely surprised, since he and Harry had been reading up on and practicing little things to help (like meditation -which Harry had been doing for years in the future - and concentrating his magic to specific locations on his body) for several months.

It was also learned that Albus had a limited ability with this type of magic, which wasn't surprising to the Unspeakables, considering the bond and Albus' family history.

And so, Jess began serious instruction about controlling and harnessing their wild magic a few weeks after Harry turned three, mainly because Harry's vocabulary and speaking skills had reached the level she felt was necessary for him to understand and sufficiently communicate. She had also given them more helpful exercises to do in their spare time.

Harry was thankful, as it gave him something more productive to do. There was only so much he could do as a toddler/'big boy' before he was all babied out for the day and wanted to do something 'adultish', like reading a book. McGonagall had nearly caught him reading an advanced charms theory book one day when Albus was busy with paperwork at his desk. Luckily (or rather unluckily), she was convinced she had caught him trying to scribble on the pages (he had been holding one of Albus' quills, as it had a pleasant soothing charm for his right hand while he read). She then rounded on Dumbledore, warning him about not keeping an eye on an adventurous child.

Albus apologized, before taking the old charms book from her hands, scooping Harry up, and reading him the book after settling down on the couch, completely deserting the paperwork.

"You are impossible, Albus," McGonagall said, though there was no harshness in her voice, probably because Harry looked up at him and pointed to the book, saying, 'weed?'.

Thanks to the Unspeakables, the problem with Harry's lightning bolt scar was being looked into and he (including Albus) was getting a handle on a unique and powerful type of magic, even befriending it in a way, which was a story in and of itself. However, Harry was worried they were beginning to get on to his and Albus' secret.

At times, they would ask him very odd questions about magic, like his opinion about certain spells or magic usages, as if they expected impressive insight. A few times, he was sure they got just that. He just couldn't help it sometimes. When they asked him about what he thought about the charm, Lumos, and how useful it could be, he found himself rambling about how much people underestimated it, and that it was actually a pure form of magic energy.

When they asked him how he knew so much about Lumos, he responded before he could really sensor himself. "Doesn't everybody?" he asked. Colin chuckled.

Not long after Harry and Albus began visiting the Unspeakables regularly, Unspeakable Dakota left their number. She didn't agree with how they were teaching Harry, believing Harry was too young to be part of such tests and lessons, no matter the reason. The other Unspeakables kindly bid her farewell, and, the last Albus had heard, she had gone to Australia.

Harry put the paper down and began reading again, turning a few pages to where he had left off the day before.

O o O o O

Rebekah Lovegood, after telling her husband to begin setting the table for dinner, was walking down the hall to get Luna.

It was the summer, so she had no current duties at Hogwarts at the moment. Rebekah shook her head, recalling her many conversations with Dumbledore. Who would have thought the leader of light had such troubling dreams? She was confident these dreams were due to the past wars he had lived through and the deep feeling of responsibility he had in both. She had worked with him concerning his guilt for a few years now and he said his dreams had improved, but she couldn't help but feel he was hiding something from her. Something very important.

It was almost as if he was constantly fighting off another war, and at times, the way he spoke, she was almost convinced another war was going to be imminent unless steps were taken to prevent it. It was odd and more than a little troubling, especially when little Harry would stumble in during the middle of one of such talks, playing with Fawkes, and Dumbledore's eyes would sharpen strangely and Harry would stop and look at him with a similar expression.

Harry. He was another person who was often on her mind. He was an adorable but frighteningly intelligent little boy — though, being raised by and having a bond with the great Albus Dumbledore, who could expect less? He was already reading, but by the speed his eyes moved over the pages of the little children's book he read behind his little 'office' desk would make someone think he was reading a novel. Rebekah could only explain this by saying Harry was imitating his 'Papa'. Clearly he had watched Dumbledore read a book of some thickness, watching his eyes glide swiftly back and forth.

She liked Harry, and was more than happy to provide a playmate for him — Luna, especially because they got along so very well. Their interaction seemed to have spurred Luna's mental development even faster than it already was coming, following after Harry's love of reading. He would read out loud, which only invited Luna's plot suggestions Harry was more than happy to go along with.

Rebekah shook herself from her thoughts, coming to her daughter's room. She was about to knock, but stopped as she heard a few words being spoken within.

"Harry showed me," Luna said.

Rebekah managed to peek around the partly open door to find Luna, now four years old, sitting on her bed and talking to her small stuffed fox. Rebekah smiled. Luna loved that silly little thing — which needed to be washed, now that she thought about it. There were also a few colored learner quills (specially charmed for children) and sheets of parchment on the bed around her and her fox, Sly.

"He said it would help keep bad dreams away," Luna said, moving to lay on her stomach as she pulled one of the parchments closer to her. "It's not hard, but he said to use a lot of color. He said color makes the web better, and cuz I'm makin' it, it's des… um, only for me."

Rebekah stayed out of sight, watching Luna draw this 'web' from the hall.

"Harry told me he has dreams," Luna said. Rebekah couldn't help but lean in, especially when she could see the frown appearing on her daughter's face. "They sound kinda scary, but I know he's trying not to make them sound as bad as they really are."

Rebekah frowned, suddenly wanting to walk in and ask why they sounded scary, if Harry was having trouble sleeping, and why she thought Harry's dreams were worse than what Harry said. Before she could decide what to do, Luna continued talking to Sly.

"He said the web helps him, but not all the time. I said he should ask my mum for help, but he said no. I told him how mum helps his papa, but he said he doesn't like others knowing what he sees."

It took Luna about two minutes to finish her picture, mainly because she was using every color available to her.

"There. See, Sly?" She held up the finished product to Sly. "Hmm, now I just need to remember . . ." She scrunched up her face and put her right palm over the colorfully webbed circle. "Oh, almost forgot!"

She quickly leaned over the page, grabbing three quills: a light blue, a dark blue, and a dark green. With a very careful hand, she drew three tiny symbols, one at the top and the other two at the bottom of the circle. Rebekah could only watch in confusion. What was her daughter doing?

"There," she said, putting her hand on the circle again. "Okay, he said when I was done to say . . . 'pacalis**somnium**custos.' Oooo. . . ."

The web lit up from the center out, each color glistening sharply for a fraction of a second just as Rebekah rushed in and yanked the page away from her daughter.

"Ah!" Luna cried, completely startled.

"What in Merlin's name!" Rebekah gasped, feeling the page ripple in her hands as she took a closer look at the colorful web on the parchment.

It was a complex combination of runes! All she could do was stare at it, oblivious to her daughter gazing up at her from the bed, clutching her fox.

She quickly ran through the spell Luna had spoken in her little innocent voice . . . 'pacalis**somnium**custos' . . . and roughly translated it. "Peaceful dream watcher," she whispered, taking in her daughter's carefully and purposefully drawn runes around the web of scribbled colors.

How had Harry been able to show Luna how to do this? How had Harry learned this? Did Albus know? Did Albus teach him? Did Albus know about these dreams? And if so, why hadn't he told her about Harry's difficulties? Did this small rune network actually work? It certainly seemed possible, especially after seeing it 'activate'.

"Mum?" Luna asked hesitantly.

She turned her face to Luna, who was looking at her with wide eyes.

Rebekah immediately softened her expression and relaxed her shoulders. "I'm sorry, honey, this just . . . scared me," she admitted.

"Scared you? Why?" Luna asked. "It's not bad, Harry said so."

Rebekah stopped herself from pointing out that Harry was not even five years old and was a long way away from being an adult who could dictate what was bad or not, especially where rune networks were concerned.

"How do you know that, honey? What if Harry was wrong? You shouldn't do things with magic you can't control or don't understand yourself."

"Harry understands magic; I trust him," Luna said, blowing her mom away with her matter of fact tone. "He wouldn't show me how to do anything that could hurt me."

"He understands magic? What do you mean?" she asked, sitting on the corner of the bed, the parchment now being loosely held by her left hand.

Luna shrugged.

"Understands it, how?" she prodded.

"He told me it's more alive than not; cons…cis?"

"Conscious?"

"Yeah, that."

"How did he learn that?"

"I don't know, he just knows. Sort of like how I know that's up," Luna said, pointing up.

Kid logic. Brilliant as always.

"Who taught this to Harry?" Rebekah asked, raising the picture, really wanting to get to the bottom of this now. Harry was messing with runes and was now getting her daughter into them, and that was dangerous — for both of them. "Was it a student?"

Luna looked confused. "No."

"A professor?"

"No."

"Then who?"

Luna gazed up at her, as if confused her mom was so interested about knowing something so obvious. "Himself."

O o O o O

* * *

A/N: Next part will move things along more, don't worry. Good stories usually have a good base to launch off of. Please keep that in mind.


	13. Answers

Disclaimer: Really? We don't own this? Are you sure? Darn, must have been a dream then.

**Question concerning:**

_Snape_: Just to clear things up, Snape became a spy for Dumbledore about the same time the Potter's went into hiding (since they went into hiding because Snape confessed to Dumbledore). He was obviously out of Hogwarts by this time.

* * *

**Part 13: Answers**

Rebekah took a deep calming breath, for whatever reason a bit anxious about what she was planning to do. After taking in everything Luna had said and running through it all several times in her head, she decided to go speak to Dumbledore about it. She needed to make sure he knew. For her own sanity. That, and she seriously didn't think it was a good idea for a child, any child, to be practicing rune magic on their own, not to mention the advanced rune work that 'web' was.

Manipulating the dreamscape of any individual is tricky work. One couldn't just open a book and copy the process without really knowing what they were doing, and to teach someone else. . . .

She shook her head, now on her way out of Hogsmeade and walking to Hogwarts. She opted to walk rather than floo since she wanted more time to think.

She had of course read up on the 'web', but doing so had only made her become even more concerned. If done incorrectly, the web could cause horrid nightmares, and not just for the person in the bed it had been placed over, but for the entire household!

But somehow, Luna had done it correctly; Rebekah had checked the web and runes three times.

All too soon, Rebekah was at the entrance and making her way in.

"Ah! Mrs. Lovegood, are you lookin' fer the Headmaster?" Hagrid asked, coming up from behind her.

"Oh! You scared me," she said, hand over her heart before calming herself. "Yes, I'm looking for him. Need to talk to him about a few things. Is he at the Ministry or something?"

"Nah, just havin' a meetin' with the Heads o' House. Preparing fer next term, yuh know? They're meetin' in Profess'r McGonagall's office," Hagrid said.

"Oh, thanks Hagrid, but I'll just wait in his office. He told me to whenever I need to speak with him when he's in a meeting," she said.

"Of course," Hagrid said. "Have a good day, ma'am."

Rebekah nodded her thanks before heading to Dumbledore's office.

"Red popsicles," she said, the gargoyle moving aside.

Going up the stairs and coming to the door, she gave a slight knock, to which she heard Harry's voice reply, "Come in!"

She opened the door and entered, finding Harry, fully clad in robes that, although not as loud as some of Albus', were definitely a bit more magical than what could have been deemed necessary. Did the child need to have little puppies prancing around his sleeves?

"Mrs. Lovegood? You waiting for Papa?" Harry asked, putting away a stack of parchment into his desk.

"Yes, but I wouldn't mind speaking with you for a little bit while I wait," she said, trying to figure out how to get to what she wanted to talk about.

Harry seemed unconcerned and at ease, but he couldn't help but feel something was coming he might not like.

"Is Luna here?" Harry asked, his eyes giving a hopeful gleam before dimming slightly when he found the little girl was not hiding behind her mother.

"No, sorry, Harry. She's at home with her dad," Rebekah said, feeling a little guilty about not bringing her, for she could have.

"Oh," Harry said, unable to conceal his disappointment.

"I'll try to bring her with me the next time I come, okay?"

Harry brightened a little at that.

"So, how have you been? You've been being a good boy, right?"

Harry nodded, practically angelically.

"Good," she said with a smile, glancing over to the little desk.

There were colorful children quills all over it, a few sheets of parchment, and a few thin books; he even had a paper weight!

"Been drawing?" she asked, trying not to appear overly curious.

"A little . . ." he admitted.

"Oh! Can I see?" she asked.

Harry went back over to his desk and glanced at a few pages, as if trying to decide which one to show her.

"I'm sure they're all good, Harry, no need to pick which one you show me," she said.

He bit his bottom lip, picked one and brought it over to her.

She gently took it and looked at it. She couldn't hold back a smile. It was obviously Albus and Fawkes. The long beard and bright robes were unmistakable, as were the old man's twinkling blue eyes. And Fawkes . . . well, he was sort of lopsided on Albus' shoulder, but he was certainly recognizable. The picture was quite a work of art, even more so when considering it had been drawn by a near five year old.

"It's Papa and Fawkes," Harry said helpfully, as if the picture was unclear.

"They are quite stunning. Such an artist you are, Harry."

Harry blushed.

"So, do you draw anything else?"

He shrugged.

"Come now, certainly with this sort of work you draw other things."

"I drew Hagrid. I thought I made him too . . . um . . . fat, but Hagrid liked it and took it before I could fix it."

Rebekah smiled. Harry was no doubt a perfectionist. Might be how he managed to teach Luna the web successfully. . . . That thought got her to refocus, making her remember why she had come in the first place.

"Harry, have you," she began, growing serious, which quickly caught Harry's attention. She paused, her face softening a little bit. "Harry, I won't be mad, and I'm not mad, but I need to know the truth."

Harry blinked, his bright green eyes staring back at her in concern and confusion.

"Okay . . ." he said slowly.

"Have you drawn any—any magic things?"

His eyes widened a little.

_Uh-huh,_ she mentally said. _You know what you've been doing._

"Magic things?" Harry asked, trying to feign innocence, but failing.

"They're called runes, Harry. Have you been drawing runes?"

Harry shook his head, no.

Rebekah sighed. "Harry, I know about the web, the web you showed Luna how to make to help with her dreams. You don't need to lie to me. I just want to know where you learned it."

"Luna's not in trouble, is she?" Harry asked miserably.

"No," she answered, but Harry's lip quavered anyway.

_How much does she know? How much did Luna accidently share? What if she learned my and Papa's secrets? _Harry wondered worriedly, before childish thoughts surfaced. _Is Luna really not in trouble?_ _What if she did get in trouble and won't be my friend anymore? What if I won't be allowed to see her anymore because I showed her how to draw runes? What if the Lovegoods hate me?! _

Luna was his best friend, and one of his only friends who he felt wouldn't look at him weird with all the things he did and said (not that he had a whole lot of friends). Sure, he talked to the kids at the school, but Luna was, well, as odd as it sounded, someone who he could feel normal around besides Papa and Neville.

Harry was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't know how upset he truly was, or how much his magic was reacting to that fact.

Rebekah, on the other hand, was very aware.

She felt it before she saw the affects, a wave of magic brush through her from Harry's center. And then all of the glass in the room began vibrating.

"Harry. Harry! It's okay. I told you I'm not mad at you, I'm just concerned about where you learned it and how. This kind of magic can be dangerous, and I don't want you accidently hurting yourself!" she said, quickly moving forward to try to calm Harry down.

Harry choked back a sob, closing his eyes, only hearing half of what she was saying just as all of the glass in the room suddenly shattered in his fear and anguish.

"Harry, shh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you, I just don't want you or anyone else hurt!" she said, her hands taking hold of Harry's little ones as the broken glass went back to its original form before breaking even more violently.

She pulled him to her chest, suddenly very afraid he might hurt himself with all the glass now exploding everywhere.

Rubbing his back and desperately asking him to calm down, Harry suddenly trembled and exhaled a shaky breath, and then, everything went still.

"'m sorry," he whispered.

"It's okay; it's not your fault. It's why they call it accidental magic," she replied softly as she looked around.

Everything was back as it was, every last piece of glass back in place, and if she hadn't just witnessed it, she would have thought nothing had happened.

About to turn back to Harry, the door suddenly flung open behind her.

"_Harry!_"

O o O o O

"So, any other topics or concerns we should discuss before we close the meeting?" Minerva asked, looking at Albus, Pomona, Horace, and Filius.

They were sitting in Minerva's office, gathered around a little table with a few drinks and crackers. Albus was holding an elaborate glass mug with squirrels running around the rim. Filius had a small serving of crackers (which he was still working on), Horace had a black tea cup, and Pomona had a flowery cup. Minerva was content with a single cracker (mainly to appease the house elves).

"I have one," Sprout said hesitantly. The other professors gave her their full attention. "It's about Harry." Her eyes softened as they found Albus in a mild state of surprise. "He's done nothing wrong, of course, I'm just a little . . . concerned is all."

"Concerned?" Albus asked.

Pomona took a moment to collect herself, as for why, they could only guess.

"Have you been teaching him anything?" she asked.

Albus blinked, wondering what had brought this about or when Harry could have possibly slipped.

"Not extensively, but I don't mind answering his questions or allowing him to look at a few of my books. He can read quite well, as he is a very curious child," he answered proudly, before growing serious again. "Why?"

"During one of the review sessions I give when requested inside the Hufflepuff Common Room, I witnessed something that took me by surprise," she said.

"Alright, so this was last week?" Minerva asked.

"Yes. Well, there were a number of fifth years studying for OWLs beside the fireplace while I worked with a group of third years on magical creatures at the other side of the room."

"Okay, and I assume this was enlightening because…?" Horace Slughorn asked.

"Harry was spending that day with me, because Albus was at the Ministry and it was my turn to watch him," she answered before moving on. "Well, I gave the third years a fifteen minute break and went around the room to make sure the other students studying were doing alright when I heard Harry."

"What was he doing?" Minerva asked, now quite interested in Pomona's story.

"He was teaching. Teaching the fifth years."

"_Teaching_?" Horace asked in disbelief.

"Well, I suppose he wouldn't think he was, but he was. He even had his hands clasped behind his back at times and his voice had a 'teacher tone' to it."

"What was he teaching?" Minerva asked.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts. He was demonstrating proper stances and how to help prevent under or overpowering spells, and he was correct in everything he said and showed. Merlin, even his wand movements were correct!"

Flitwick squeaked.

"What? You can't be serious! The boy is just . . . a boy! And how did he get a wand?!" Minerva stated, before looking to Albus to see what he thought.

"I am very serious, which is why I have decided to bring this to everyone's attention. And he borrowed the wand from Jacob Grend," Pomona said.

"Well, what did you do after you saw this?" Minerva questioned, since Albus wasn't revealing anything.

"I was in a state of shock, as you can imagine. I honestly didn't know what to say, so I said nothing and acted as if I hadn't seen it at all, but I could tell as he handed the wand back to Mr. Grend that his 'students' were quite impressed and thankful for his instruction."

Minerva, Pomona, Filius, and Horace became quiet, looking to Albus.

"Albus?"

His eyes twinkled with fatherly pride, but Minerva could also see a slight frown of unease.

"He likes reading and looking over some of my dueling books . . . and I _might_ have given him a few pointers with my wand . . ." Albus admitted.

"Albus, I understand how enjoyable it is to teach, but surely you can see how dangerous this is," Filius began.

"Have you thought about what could happen if he decided to try something with your wand or a student's? There's a reason why eleven is the set starting age. No matter how much a child may know, their magic can become easily imbalanced, and then it is anyone's guess what a spell might do," Minerva said.

"I understand that, and so does Harry, which is why he doesn't cast any spells with a wand."

"But he is a _child_, Albus. Children make mistakes; children sometimes forget or overlook instructions and decide to try things just to see what might happen. You know this includes magic as much as anyone."

"Harry is not like other children," Albus said simply, but Minerva could tell this was getting to him. His eyes were sharper and there were a few more wrinkles on his brow.

"No, he isn't, which is why even more care should be taken," Filius said. "It wouldn't take much for him to think it would be okay for him to try things just because of who he is. I know he knows about his past, since you have rightly told him, and I'm sure he sometimes hears what the students say about him. All I am saying is that whether or not he admits it, it must affect him. It would be a heavy burden for anyone."

Albus' face fell slightly, and Filius instantly regretted his words, but before Filius could apologize, Albus moved his left hand to grip the front of his colorful robes and his eyes closed as if he had just been told his best friend had died. His right hand tightened around his mug and the smell of ozone filled the air.

CRACK!

The mug shattered in a thousand pieces as a heavy pulse of magic was barely restrained within and around Albus.

The other professors didn't have time to react when Albus suddenly stood up, the tiny glass crystals of his former mug scattering all over the surface of the table as he whipped around and bolted from the room.

"Albus?!"

Minerva was the first on his heels, soon followed by the others. She could barely keep up and she was having a difficult time trying to recall when Albus had ever run faster.

The gargoyle moved aside instantly and they dashed up the stairs behind Albus as one strangled word came from his lips.

"_Harry_!"

The professors stopped at the doorway as Dumbledore went to one knee a few paces in and took Harry into his embrace.

"Rebekah, what happened?" Flitwick asked as both Dumbledores continued to ignore everything around them.

"Accidental magic," she answered, not knowing what else to say.

The professors glanced at each other before looking to Harry and Albus. Dumbledore was checking Harry for injuries and asking him he was alright.

"I'm sorry, Papa, I'm sorry!" Harry rambled. "Luna told me about having bad dreams, so I showed her how to get rid of most of them! But now I won't get to see her anymore! Her parents hate me now!"

"What?! Harry, I told you I'm not mad, I just don't want anyone to get hurt. Ancient Runes is an advanced magic, and if a part is done wrong, it could be very bad. I just wanted to know how you learned about them and why," she said as Harry sniffled, at least some of her words getting through to him.

"You-you mean I can still play with Luna?" Harry asked.

"If I didn't, I doubt Luna would ever forgive me," Rebekah replied.

Harry's eyes brightened, clearly relieved and thankful.

"Runes, Harry?" Minerva asked, her eyebrows going up.

Harry tried to hide against Albus.

"Alright," Albus said, deciding it was time to enter the conversation. "I won't deny showing and teaching Harry things most others would never dream of even talking to a four year old about, but Harry is my son, no one else's. I have found that he picks things up rather quickly, and if I did not keep his curiosity fed, I can only imagine what he would try to do to appease it. As you all already know, we occasionally go to a department of the Unspeakables in hopes of better understanding how Harry's magic works, and so, despite his age, he fully comprehends the dangers of magic and what can happen when using magic irresponsibly."

Albus stood up, keeping Harry close to himself as he waited for one of his staff to say something. There was no longer any point hiding Harry's intelligence from his main staff. As the muggles would say, 'the jig was down' . . . or was it 'up'?

"What other things has he learned?" Flitwick asked.

"Anything and everything I've allowed him, which includes a great deal of theory in Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Defense, and, of course, Runes," Dumbledore answered honestly, some pride bleeding through. "I have also been working with him on basic skills of course, such as math, reading, and writing. He is doing quite well in everything. He is even hoping to start Arithmacy soon."

Rebekah and the professors stared at Harry, clearly impressed and taken aback. Harry looked down at his shoes and tried to look as small as possible before risking a peek back up at them.

"You are full of surprises, Mr. Dumbledore," Horace said.

O o O o O

Seth lay on his couch in a pair of sweat pants, setting his empty beer bottle on the table next to him. Beer, what a wonderful muggle invention. Although a few wizards brewed as well, theirs was far inferior to the muggle kind.

He glanced at his watch, one o'clock. He'd better get to work on his notes. He reached for the table, but there was nothing there except the last two bottles.

"Slagathor!" he shouted.

A house elf appeared before him and bowed low. "What does Master Wiggins require?"

"Have you seen my notes on Harry Dumbledore?" Seth asked.

"I thinks Master Wiggins left them at work today," Slagathor answered.

"Crap, well, I've got to have those notes," Seth responded. "I'll be back in a moment. Please take away these bottles." He sat up and put his feet on the floor, looking around his favorite study. It was warm and cheerful, with a fireplace on one wall and books on another. A simple desk and comfy chair sat just beside the fireplace, so he could enjoy the warmth and light whenever he worked from his home.

"Get the fire going while I'm gone, please," Seth said as he stretched. He took a step, banging his shin on the table. "Dammit!" he shouted, ripping out his wand and blasting the table into pieces.

He stared at the mess for a bit, then put his wand away. "Never mind the bottles, Slagathor," he said as he left the room.

He was in sight of the kitchens when he sighed and turned around, walking back toward the room. He opened the door and pulled out his wand. "Reparo," he muttered, and the table returned to its rightful form. Satisfied, he again closed the door and walked down the hall.

He passed closed door after closed door, heading for the kitchens. There were no good smells coming from there now, but, given a few moments, the elves could create a meal fit for a king. When he came back he might request, at the very least, some chocolate.

Finally reaching the front entry, he noted the huge curving staircase that led to bedrooms, game rooms, any rooms he could think of, and whatever else took his fancy. Imposing columns with Gryffindor lions curved around them supported the golden ceiling. True red, the only kind he could see, was the predominant color. Too bad he had to keep his dwelling secret from everyone, even his coworkers. Sometimes he wished he could show it off to someone other than Slagathor.

He touched his wand to the huge, wooden front door, and the carved lions eating snakes moved away from the cracks as the door opened. He took a step through and quickly closed the door behind him.

Seth now stood in the space behind his desk at work, and although he didn't think anyone was here, he did not relax until the door had blended back into the wall. This was his pride and joy, something he could never show the others, an extra dimensional mansion.

He admired the thought for a bit longer before he started looking for his notes on Harry Dumbledore. Ah, there they were, on his desk. He picked up the book, which was one of Colin's better ideas. Colin had taken everyone's notes from the first set of tests and bound them with runes. All anyone had to do was draw a specific rune on the upper right hand corner of a piece of paper, and the paper would disappear and reappear into the book. Everyone had one, so everyone's notes could be seen by the group.

The book was by now quite thick, and Seth was going to read through the beginning again, just to make sure there was nothing brought up then that was not being addressed now. He started walking absently to his office door and opened it before he recalled that he should have gone straight back to his mansion.

Just as he turned to go back, he saw someone sitting on the couch in the main room of RDHPIT.

Why was someone here this late?

He slowly walked back to his desk and set the book down, just in case it was an intruder. He pulled out his wand and shielded his mind.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

As the person continued to sit, Seth realized that if someone had the power to get down here, it probably wasn't wise to call them out without backup. Crap.

That sudden thought left, however, when he saw someone approach from his right. Seth pointed his wand at the new person, then lowered it as he recognized who it was. "David?"

David put his finger in front of his pursed lips and gestured to the couch. "You don't want to wake her up," he whispered.

Seth looked at the couch again. Although the person's back was to him, he could tell that her head barely showed above the back of the couch. "Anna?" Seth guessed with a whisper.

David nodded.

"What are you two doing here?" Seth asked.

"I'd ask you the same thing," David responded, "but I'm assuming you came back from your place to get your notes."

"Er . . . yeah," Seth answered. How much did David know? And how did he know? "I should get back with these." Dang it! Now he'd have to leave through the apparition point rather than go back through his office.

He started walking for it, getting almost as far as the couch before David asked, "Why don't you just go back through your office?"

Crap. Maybe it was a lucky guess. That had to be it. David was notoriously lucky, thanks to the potion he chugged every day. "Why would I do that?" Seth asked, hoping to throw him off.

"Because that's the entrance to your house," David answered matter-of-factly.

Seth closed his eyes and leaned against the couch. Crap. "Who else knows?"

"People," was David's cryptic response. Even with his eyes closed, Seth knew David was smirking.

A sigh from the couch. "All of us do, Seth. Don't worry about it," Anna said quietly.

"I thought you were asleep!" Seth exclaimed, opening his eyes to look at Anna. She was still staring in front of her, wearing pajama pants and a matching shirt.

"I never said that," Anna responded.

"Well, then what were you doing sitting here in the dark?" Seth demanded, growing more irritated with his coworkers by the second.

Anna didn't answer for a moment, then quietly said, "Places."

Seth frowned while David snickered. That didn't even answer his question! That was the sort of response David often used, but when he did, the answer at least made sense.

"Anyway, perhaps it would be helpful if we all looked over the information in that book," Anna said, finally turning to look at Seth. "I don't have anything better to do, especially if you guys are going to talk while I'm trying to concentrate." Although he couldn't see it on her face in the dark, she seemed a bit annoyed.

"Hey, this is a common area," David protested. "We can talk here if we want."

"Although if we are here after hours without permission," Anna stated, "we could get in big trouble. So why don't you show us this house of yours, Seth, and we'll study these notes."

Seth deliberated for a bit. On the one hand, he was miffed that they knew and hadn't said anything. How did they know, anyway? He looked suspiciously at Anna, the mind reader. On the other hand, hadn't he just been thinking he'd like to show off his work? On the third hand, they already knew, so why not show them?

More hands for than against. It made sense to go someplace more comfortable, and hadn't they agreed to look over the book with him? Well, at least Anna had.

"Fine," he said, walking back toward his office. A slight tingle of excitement ran through him. Regardless of how they knew, he was going to enjoy showing them around. The intricate workmanship, the variety of rooms, the house elves at his beck and call. They would be impressed, surely.

O o O o O

"So I never asked," Seth said as he, David, and Anna were poring over the first few pages of the notes about Harry Dumbledore. "How did you get Albus Dumbledore to stay on Harry's first day of tests? From what I remember, they were going to leave after they found out about Don."

"Oh, I got lucky," Anna said with a smirk, glancing at David.

It was no secret to the Unspeakables that David was addicted to Felix Felicis, aka liquid luck. Nobody ever spoke about it, but everyone knew. Apparently like his mansion. "You'd better be careful; that stuff can be addicting," Seth said with a smirk.

"Yeah," Anna answered, "and with everything that day, I could see why."

The three had gone through the front of Seth's mansion. Anna shook her head at the lions eating snakes décor, but said nothing. David admired the spellwork, but neither one seemed inclined to talk about the mansion.

It was a bit of a letdown, but perhaps later they would have more time to talk about it. Right now, they just wanted to get to business. "Slagathor," Seth said.

Anna and David looked at him strangely as Slagathor popped into the room. "Welcome, guests of Master. What does Master and his guests require?" he asked with a bow.

"Just a beer, Slagathor." Seth looked up at the others, noting David's raised eyebrow and Anna's half smile. "Anything for you guys?"

"I'll take a beer," David answered.

"Hot cider, please," Anna said.

"It's summer," David stated incredulously.

"Yeah, but it's cold in here, and cider is good at any time," Anna answered confidently.

"Slagathor will have it for you shortly," the house elf said respectfully before he popped away.

"So, little Dumbledore," Anna began, tapping her version of the notes. "What were you going to look up?"

"Well, I thought I'd look over the notes we took after the first test to make sure we haven't been overlooking anything," Seth answered with a shrug.

Neither of his coworkers asked why he wanted to do this at, he glanced at his clock, one thirty in the morning. Part of him wanted them to ask, but mostly he was glad they didn't. This way they could get right to the matter at hand.

"Ok, well, the first few pages are the notes that we took about the event on Halloween," David said. "Then we have notes about the tests we ran."

"Since then, we've been focusing on wild magic and horcruxes," Anna added.

"Is there anything we haven't looked at?" Seth asked.

Anna answered. "Here were our guesses as to what might be happening with his magic." She gestured to the open page in her lap. She squinted. "Marge boot?"

"That's Magic Bond," Seth said, looking a bit annoyed. "My handwriting's not that bad!"

"Yeah, it is," David said with a short laugh. "Is this 'squirrel'?"

Seth looked at it for a moment, tilting the book a bit. "I don't know," he admitted.

Anna and David laughed.

"Okay, so the magic bond hypothesis was where the bond itself made Harry's magic react," Seth said, choosing to press on. "We threw that out because we figured the bond was caused by the wild magic, not the other way around."

"Right, so the sacrifice is on the list next," Anna said with a nod. "Maybe his mother's sacrifice caused him to have protections that could repel AKs."

"Which we threw out because other mothers have sacrificed for their children, and nothing like this occurred," David said.

"Yeah, then we wondered if his mother's magic left her and came to Harry because of the sacrifice, but that was thrown out for most of the same reasons," Seth said. "Also, she didn't have wild magic, according to her records."

"We've already cleared this up, though," David said. "We kind of got to a point where our theories weren't making much sense, then Seth shouted, 'Magic Incarnate!'"

"Yeah, it kind of fell into place after that," Anna said. "Harry's affinity for magic, his protection, his intelligence, the forging of a bond with the most powerful wizard of our time. . . ."

Seth smiled. He'd been joking at the time, especially since David had just thrown out 'Time Travelers,' which went against everything they knew so was quickly dismissed. Once out there, however, the magic incarnate theory made sense. They had done some research to see if magic had been incarnate before, but it was slow going. Merlin could have been, but there wasn't a whole lot of personal information on him.

The incarnate theory seemed to be supported since Harry could rattle off answers about spells that he shouldn't know, even taking into consideration that he was being raised by Albus Dumbledore and lived in a school. He was surprisingly insightful with his answers as well, and at times it was as if he was debating with himself about how much to say, which was rather interesting. His maturity also helped support it. He liked to play, but he listened and obeyed much better than most children his age. Then there was his wild magic, which added another dynamic to everything.

He and Albus had been training with Jess to hone their wild magic. Seth had watched a few of the lessons, and though he couldn't tell what was going on since he couldn't see the magic, he knew that if anyone could teach them, it was Jess.

It _was _sort of entertaining to watch Jess correct Albus Dumbledore when he did something wrong, which wasn't often. The headmaster's knowledge spanned generations of magic, and multiple subjects, but wild magic, although something he'd looked at, was not something he'd ever practiced.

When these lessons began was when Unspeakable Dakota had left. She didn't like what they were doing, and didn't think it was right to teach and test such a small child with wild magic. The group was keeping their eyes open for someone who could fill her spot on in the group, but having found no one so far, they simply divided up her research.

"Ok, so we've been concentrating on wild magic a lot," David said after they went through the relative notes. It was 3:30 am.

"Yeah, and the horcruxes," Seth responded.

They had done many tests on Harry's scar, where dark magic was concentrated. After many tests and debate, they had decided it was a horcrux, a horrid bit of dark magic. This explained why Voldemort wasn't dead. When they had approached Albus with this information, he had said that he already knew, and that Voldemort was obsessed with making them.

Immediately, research had gone into how to destroy a horcrux. Albus had been helpful, telling them that basilisk poison and dragon stomach acid would both destroy a horcrux. Obviously both of those would kill Harry, so they were researching safer ways to destroy it.

Jess had called a meeting with the other heads of the Unspeakable departments and asked for any information on horcruxes. She hadn't learned much else, except that fiendfyre would also destroy them. Albus had hypothesized that it might, but said he didn't know for sure.

"So, based on what Mr. Dumbledore told us," Seth said, stopping on a page of his notes, "We know that there were at least five horcruxes made by You-Know-Who."

"Yeah, we thought that was possibly why magic chose to incarnate itself into a person — Harry, because using magic to do something like that is terrible," Anna replied. Her mug of cider was empty, and she was balancing it on her forehead as she lay on the couch.

"So, one thing we never really discussed was, why now?" Seth said, pushing Anna's feet. Anna immediately sat up, blushing as she realized she'd had her feet balanced on Seth's leg. "I mean, we talked about the horcruxes, but why would magic wait for that when there have been dark lords before?"

"Maybe it was the horcruxes?" David said thoughtfully, his feet propped on the coffee table as he sat in a wicker chair. "I mean, I don't know of anyone else who made more than one, do you?"

"I'd never even heard of them before this," Seth said.

"Me neither, but our research hasn't turned anyone up yet," David replied. They looked at Anna.

Anna shrugged, "I'd never heard of them either."

"Weren't you raised by a dark family, though?" Seth inquired.

"Just because my family is dark doesn't mean they know every dark ritual or spell," Anna said. "Does your family know every light ritual and spell?"

"No, my mom wasn't even a witch," Seth said. "I thought purebloods were more careful about hoarding knowledge, passing it down the generations." His voice was sarcastic. Living as a Gryffindor halfblood had shown him the bad side of many of the pureblood families, especially the dark ones.

"Can't help you. I'm a muggleborn," David said with a laugh.

"Well, that wasn't part of my family's secret knowledge," Anna said, rolling her eyes. "So was there anything we missed?"

"There's the bond," David offered. "We figured it was caused by the wild magic, and we kind of know how it works, but we never really looked into alternate reasons for it or anything."

"Usually a bond like that takes years to form, at least in its stable state," Anna said. "Wild magic was the only way we could think to explain it."

"If he's magic incarnate, then I guess the magic could have formed the bond," Seth said.

"Why, though?" Anna asked.

"Maybe it saw Mr. Dumbledore as a powerful source of magic and wanted to stay close to him?" Seth suggested.

"Possibly," David replied. "Or it could have been an accident with all the magic running around the room at the time. I've heard that these bonds can form with people who have been through war together."

"Then the wild magic just made it form immediately rather than having it form over a long period of time?" Seth questioned, wanting to make sure he understood what was being suggested.

"That's a possibility," Anna said as she flipped a few pages. "Hey! I never saw this!" She pointed to an official looking report.

"Oh, I think that's a report from the other Unspeakable groups of what was noticed on Halloween when all this happened," David said, turning to the page in his book.

"Hmm, a flicker in the magic levels of Godric's Hallow," Seth mused. "Wow, they actually keep track of stuff like this?"

"Yeah, I think most of Britain is covered, as well as parts of the continent," David answered. "Oh, check this out." His brow rose as he read. "There was a time stretch. It looks like seven seconds were added to the night. Weird."

"Who monitors this stuff?" Seth asked incredulously.

"The Department of Time, for this one," Anna answered. "It's possible most of this stuff has nothing to do with Harry."

"Possible, but unlikely," David said, raising his finger.

"I doubt the fact that it stormed in London is related," Anna said sarcastically.

"It might be!" Seth said, laughing. He glanced at the clock, six in the morning. Work began in two hours.

"What about that time thing?" Anna said, smiling as much as she ever did. "What could have caused that?"

"I have no idea," David said, "but it was seven seconds, a very magical number."

"Magic incarnate?" Seth answered with a shrug. It was how they'd been explaining a lot of things.

"Maybe the reflected AK stretched time?" Anna suggested.

"Why that one and not the three cast at him later?" Seth asked.

"It could have been the magic protecting him, giving him more time to react against Voldemort, protecting him or something," David put in. "Then when the others hit him, he already had the protection up?" David shrugged exaggeratedly.

"No, that's not right, look. The seven seconds was before the AK had even been cast," Seth said.

"What?" Anna asked, looking at the record. Sure enough, it was before. Possibly before Voldemort had even arrived.

"Okay, so . . . the seven second stretch was before the attack even occurred? Hmm," David said.

"Do you think this could have been Harry's magic waking?" Anna asked.

"That would mean he or his magic . . . well, if we are going with our theory he is magic, but anyway . . . it would have to mean he knew Voldemort was coming for him," David said.

"Hmm, don't you find it a little bit odd that Dumbledore came when he had? I know when we asked him about it, he said he had charms on the house and stuff, but it just doesn't fit," Seth said.

"But remember, he admitted to that in a way, saying he just felt something bad had just happened or was about to," Anna said.

"Do you think magic warned him? Told him to get there to help protect part of itself?" Seth asked.

"It's very possible," Anna said as she up the paper she had began writing on when they started talking. Her hand shook a bit and she let go of the quill and held her hand flat against the paper, frowning.

"You know, I've always wondered," Seth began, "Why are you so twitchy?"

"Twitchy?" Anna repeated, looking puzzled.

"Well yeah," Seth continued. He was probably going to get in trouble for this, but hopefully she'd contribute his questions to the late hour or the alcohol, even though he wasn't anywhere near drunk. "When you smile, you never smile with your whole mouth, and you're always dropping stuff. See! Your hand's shaking."

"Oh," Anna said, reaching down to pick up the dropped quill. She quickly spelled the ink from his carpet. "I was hit with a spell when I was little, and it messed up my nerves. I had to relearn a lot of things, like how to smile. I'm still working on it."

"What spell?" David asked. He was obviously wondering just as much as Seth was.

"Oh, you know," Anna mumbled, "a crucio."

"A crucio!" Seth exclaimed, while David made a hissing noise of disbelief. "How old were you?"

"Um, six maybe?" Anna said, hesitating.

"Who would crucio a little kid?" David asked.

"I didn't know her that well. She was a relative of my cousin's fiancé at the time," Anna answered. "She was showing something she was developing and decided to show it on me, since she caught me eavesdropping. At least, that's what Lucius told me afterward. I don't really remember."

"Wait, the crucio has been around a long time," David said. "What was she developing?"

"It was a concentrated form of the spell," Anna answered. "Something so just a small part of the body would actually be subjected to the spell."

"So she used it on your hand?" Seth asked.

"I'm not sure if she misfired or if it was on purpose, but she shot it at my head," Anna answered. "Overloaded my brain or something. That's why I can hear thoughts without trying. It sparked something in my head which made that possible."

David and Seth were speechless.

"Hey, if it hadn't happened, I would have never joined the Unspeakables," Anna said with a shrug. "Anyway, what did you think of that story Dumbledore told us?"

"Er, about what?" Seth said, trying to gather his thoughts back to Harry and the notes.

"The accidental magic Harry displayed last week and how it shattered a glass apparently through the bond," Anna answered.

"Harry hasn't displayed much accidental magic before, at least that we know of," David said, leaning back in the chair and placing his hands behind his head. "Everything he does seems deliberate."

"True, but is the issue that he did accidental magic, or that it somehow traveled through the bond?" Anna questioned.

"I've never heard of anything like it," Seth said.

"I don't know of anyone who had such a bond so young," David responded. "The possibility that magic traveled through the bond, even when they weren't in the same room, means that the bond is probably much stronger than we originally thought."

Anna nodded. "We may need to look into spells or potions that could suppress the bond, at least until Harry stops having bouts of accidental magic."

"We could look into it, but it'll be Dumbledore's decision whether they implement it or not," Seth pointed out.

"Who wouldn't?" Anna said. "To constantly feel the emotions of a child, coupled with accidental magic running through it. I think he'd be happy to suppress it, at least for awhile, like if he was in important meetings, or the ministry."

"Ok, but remember how he reacted when we first put Harry into the testing room," David reminded them. "He looked lost without the bond."

"But if it's something he could turn off and on at will, I think he'd be all right with it." Anna spoke as one with experience.

"Possibly," Seth conceded. "Well, it's about time for work to start."

"Merlin, we were up all night?" Anna questioned.

"Yup," David answered as he stood and stretched. Anna and Seth soon followed.

"I'll have the elves get us breakfast," Seth said with a snap of his fingers.

O o O o O

Colin apparated to work, wondering what the day would bring. He was looking forward to some of his pet projects, such as studying fiendfyre.

As he walked through the main room to his office, he heard laughter coming from Seth's office. Strange. Colin was an hour early so he could work in peace. Why was Seth there? Who was with him?

He didn't have to wait long for the answer as Seth's office door burst open and David walked out, wearing wrinkled robes and carrying a doughnut. Anna followed right after, in pajamas and also carrying a doughnut. Seth hung at the door, still laughing with his mouth full of doughnut.

_You know, on second thought, I don't want to know,_ Colin thought as he slipped into his office.

An hour later, Colin left his office to speak with Jess about assignments for the day. When he reached her office, he saw that the door was open and Don was just inside.

"Oh, hey, Colin," Jess said. "Hold on a minute."

"Okay," Colin answered as he stepped back out. He couldn't help but hear Don.

"They've been targeted by some powerful people," he was saying.

"They come in tomorrow," Jess responded. "We can warn them then."

"No, we should warn them now," Don answered. "These guys haven't missed a target yet, from what I understand."

Jess paused, apparently thinking over it for a bit. "Go warn them," she suddenly said.

Don rushed out of her office, brushing by Colin. He stepped in Jess' office. "What was that about?"

"Someone has targeted Albus and Harry Dumbledore for assassination," Jess answered.

* * *

A/N: Well, there we are. A rather large part. Hope the wait was worth it.


	14. Targets

Disclaimer: Really? We don't own this? Are you sure? Darn, must have been a dream then.

A/N: A reminder — the Longbottoms did not go insane since Dumbledore had told Moody to send aurors to their house soon after the attack on the Potter's. The Death Eaters were captured.

* * *

**Part 14: Targets**

Harry woke to Fawkes softly poking him.

"Huh?" he mumbled, trying to roll over and go back to sleep, but Fawkes was insistent. And then Harry remembered!

Last night had been his first slumber party. Neville and Luna had come over and they had all camped out on the floor in his room. Sure, it was a little unusual for a slumber party to be co-ed, but Neville and Luna didn't know that, and Harry wasn't about to point it out.

It had been fun and relaxing just being a kid, especially after the 'glass incident' the previous week. He had also been reassured by Luna that she wasn't mad at him, and that she had actually been worried he was going to be upset with her, since she had accidently told her mum about the runes. So all was quickly forgiven and forgotten, as most childish worries are.

Harry rolled over, almost bumping into Neville, who was still asleep next to him. Was that drool on the pillow?

"Hey, Nev," he whispered, nudging him a little. "We have to get up, 'member?"

Neville was quite a chunk when he was little, though, because his parents were raising him this time, he had a healthy tan to go along with his young build. Harry smiled, looking forward to telling Neville's parents that their son had displayed his first bout of accidental magic. Though it had been a small bit of magic, Harry was going to retell the tale with the help of Luna.

"'Kay," Neville said, rubbing his eyes.

Neville's parents were not as concerned about his apparent lack of magic as Augusta had been in the original timeline, though it was clear Augusta was trying to get her son to do something to help 'encourage' Neville to show something to put her mind at ease. Frank and Alice Longbottom did no such thing, and actually told Neville not to worry about it. Whether or not he was a wizard, he was their son and was the heir of the Longbottom line.

Harry could tell they were worried for their son, though. Not for fear of what him being a squib would do to their image or anything, but what that would mean for Neville's future. They, understandably, did not want their son to suffer any public bias or unfair judgment. They also didn't want him missing out on Hogwarts or grow to resent those who could use magic.

Neville, to their bewilderment, wasn't worried, thanks to Harry privately pointing out to him that he wouldn't be making runes with him and Luna if he wasn't magical. They had, of course, been secretly drawing runes for some time so that proved Harry's point.

Harry heard Luna sit up behind him. "You have to go with your Papa today, huh?" she said, stretching.

"Uh-huh, it's some guy's retirement party or something."

"Retirement?" Neville asked tiredly. "Are people tired?"

"Maybe they need a nap," Luna suggested.

Harry smiled. "No. It's when someone gets to stop working at a job. They get health benefits and everything."

"For getting old?" Luna asked.

"I guess," Harry said, deciding it was easier to just agree, since it was kind of true.

Harry looked at the clock, seeing that it was almost 7:30 am. They would arrive at the Ministry at 8 for the retirement party. Mad-eye Moody's party.

"Ah, you are all already up," Dumbledore said pleasantly, ready for the day as he entered.

"Uh-huh. Fawkes woke Harry up," Luna said.

"Very good. Well, your parents will be here a little before eight, so why don't you all get dressed. Come to the office when you are all ready," he said, flicking his wand which packed everything up for them while leaving their clothes out. "And pack up your PJ's once you change. Luna, you may change in the bathroom."

Luna nodded, grabbed her bag and skipped to the hall restroom while Harry and Neville picked up the clothes Dumbledore had taken out for them.

They were all heading to the office in ten minutes.

"So how were they?" Alice Longbottom asked, sitting on a recently conjured couch next to her husband, Frank. Rebekah was standing beside Alice.

"They were perfectly well behaved children," Dumbledore answered happily. "We even played a few games before I sent them off to bed."

"And Neville, he was alright during the night?"

"With Fawkes in the room, his fear of the dark was nearly nonexistent," Dumbledore assured her just before Harry, Neville and Luna entered.

"Have a good time, son?" Frank asked.

"Uh-huh. We played snaps and made shadow puppets!" he said happily, surprising his parents since he had a serious fear of the dark, and shadows. . . .

"Oh? What did you make?" Frank asked, happy his son was slowly getting over his fear, with or without the presence of a phoenix.

"I made a dragon; I had to protect Luni the Worm! Uh, Luna was the worm," he said, wiggling his finger, evidently showing how Luna had made the shadow worm.

Harry smiled, not at all surprised Neville had forgotten about his little display of magic. Why should he be concerned about maybe not being something he already knows he is? He didn't understand that his parents were privately concerned about his supposed non-magical issue.

"What was Harry?" Rebekah asked.

"Oh, he was the light," Neville said simply before becoming excited. "Fawkes was the monster I had to fight! He even played dead and everything for us!"

Dumbledore's eye twinkled as he glanced at his familiar. Fawkes seemed to shrug.

"Yeah, and Neville made our shadows shrink!" Harry said, knowing this would spark their curiosity.

"What Harry?" Frank asked, afraid to read into what this might mean.

"Oh yeah, shadow-Fawkes was about to gobble up Luni the worm, so –" Neville started, only to be cut off by Luna.

"He gasped and Harry's light shifted some and that gave Luni a chance to dodge shadow-Fawkes' beak!" she said, playing out the scene with her hands.

"Accidental magic!" Frank said, quite happy. "You're a wizard!"

"I know," Neville said, not seeing the big deal.

"Well, aren't you happy?" Alice asked, having expected Neville to be ecstatic rather than practically apathetic.

"Yeah, but I've known for a while. Harry told me I was," Neville said with a smile.

"Harry told you?" Alice asked, turning her eyes to find a rather sheepish child. She didn't know if she should be happy about Harry having faith in Neville being a wizard, or be angry about how Neville would have felt had he learned he was a squib instead.

Harry decided to play mysterious. He was the Boy-Who-Lived after all, and what he was going to say was the truth.

"He asked me what I thought," Harry said with a shrug. "I knew he was, so I told him he was."

"How did you know, though?" Rebekah asked.

"How can you not? It's all around him," Harry said, allowing himself to look confused as he gently jabbed Neville's chunky arm with his scarred hand. "And in him. See?"

"You can't know that by just poking someone, Harry," Frank said seriously, though it was clear he was a bit amused by Harry's naivety.

Rebekah and Alice noticed Harry used his right hand, which they knew he rarely used to make any sort of contact with, particularly human contact. They were not so quick to agree with Frank.

Harry frowned, inwardly deciding to have some fun, just to teach them the lesson that you can't judge a person by initial impression or set a standard for them to meet or fail. They just might surprise you. Also, after the 'glass incident', he felt he didn't need to hide so much.

In the time of learning to deal with his scarred hand, he learned his 'hand instincts' were never wrong, and could tell him quite a bit about what he was touching if he paid attention, which was probably why he wasn't able to comfortably write runes with it, now that he thought about it. His hand was telling him too many things at once, and he wasn't able to decipher it all . . . yet. Just another thing he was currently looking into.

He knew his hand could tell him if someone was magical or not, and, to a certain extent, how strong they were (or rather could be). And at the Unspeakables, he had picked up a few other things his hand could tell him, particularly about who was an animagus, a hint of what animal they may be, and if they had any other magical abilities. He was still working out the specifics, of course, but he was happy with the progress he was making. And with Albus' help, they were narrowing down what each feeling in his palm meant.

Harry looked at the adults before him, Albus' eyes twinkling, pretty sure what Harry was planning, since they had discussed how much he should slowly reveal about himself. Everyone already knew he was different; there was no reason to try to completely hide it from _everybody_, just the general public. And he knew he could trust these people, the only question was how much trust was safe for them.

Harry walked up to Frank, stopping within arm's reach of him and stretched out his scarred hand and touched his knee.

"You like cougars," he said simply, before pulling his hand back and placing it in his pocket.

Frank and Alice exchanged glances. Frank's animagus was a cougar. They looked back at Harry, finding his eyes, as always, holding a glint of unknown power and intelligence.

"You're right, Harry. I do like cougars," Frank admitted softly.

"Neville likes lions," Harry added, before there was an awkward silence.

"Well, Harry and I must be off. I would hate to arrive late for Alastor's retirement party," Dumbledore said as if nothing had happened.

"Of course, Albus," Rebekah said, guiding Luna toward the fireplace, the Longbottoms moving to get behind her.

"Harry, what do you say?" Dumbledore asked.

"Thanks for letting Neville and Luna spend the night," Harry said obediently.

"You're very welcome, Harry," Frank said, before looking up to Dumbledore. "Tell Alastor we will arrive, but will unfortunately be a bit late. Augusta will be babysitting Neville."

"I will," Dumbledore said.

Immediately after the two families left, Harry and Dumbledore flooed to the Ministry.

O o O o O

Don sprinted onto the grounds of Hogwarts. There was probably no need to hurry, as Albus and Harry Dumbledore spent most days at the castle, but he hurried anyway. Intel given too late rarely helped anyone.

The castle grew steadily closer, and soon Don was at the main entry. He yanked on the door.

Locked. Shit.

Don looked around but saw no one, not even the huge, hairy, truck-like groundskeeper. Pounding on the door would probably not be helpful, seeing as the castle was huge, and only a few professors stayed over the summer.

Don pulled out a slim tool and inserted it in the huge lock on the door. "C'mon, let me in, let me in," he mumbled as he expertly began picking the lock. He knew that since the wards had been updated, the castle didn't let people in unless they were working for the good of the people in the castle. His errand qualified as such, and he hoped his picking the lock would be overlooked.

The lock clicked, and he slid the tool into his robe and opened the door, wand drawn. No one greeted him, so he ran toward the headmaster's office. It had been years since he had been there, but he was confident of the way.

Sure enough, he soon came upon the gargoyle hiding the entrance. He boldly cast a spell that should go through any magic defenses on any door.

The gargoyle didn't budge. "For crying out loud!" Don exclaimed. "Let me up; I've got important news for the headmaster."

"He's not here," a voice from down the hall answered.

Damn. Don whipped around, a curse forming in his mind before he remembered where he was. "Who are you?" he asked instead, keeping his wand trained on the large man.

The man chuckled, his wand already pointed at Don. "Since you're the one who barged in, perhaps you should answer that question first." His bare head had a scar across the top, and Don wondered what sort of spell caused it, as it looked like it had once been painful.

Frustrated, Don explained, "I need to warn the headmaster about something. Where is he?"

"Give me a reason I should answer you," the man said.

"Hogwarts let me in," Don pointed out.

"True, but that's not enough," the man responded.

"What more do you want?" Don asked. This was wasting time.

"Maybe someone to vouch for you," the man suggested.

"Hello Michael," a new voice said. "Who is this?"

"I was trying to find out," the man, Michael, answered.

The well known form of Professor Flitwick came from behind Don. "Well," he said, suddenly businesslike, "who are you and what do you want?"

"I'm trying to find Headmaster Dumbledore, because I have news he needs to hear," Don said quickly. This was getting old. He supposed he could _imperio_ one of them to get the information, but that was generally frowned upon.

"What news?" Flitwick asked.

"I can't tell just anyone," Don responded. "Can you just tell me where he is?"

"I'm afraid not, since I don't know who you are or what your intentions are," Flitwick answered.

Don suddenly remembered his card. "Oh, I'm with the Unspeakables; here's my card," he said, handing the card to Flitwick. It didn't give his real name, but it had his picture, and was coated in magic that made it impossible to forge. He had forgotten it because his jobs generally involved taking people out without making contact, or hiding who he was working for. Talking to someone up front was usually Anna or Colin's job.

Flitwick glanced over the card, then handed it to Michael.

"Albus is at the Ministry, attending Alastor Moody's retirement party," Flitwick finally answered.

"Great, thanks," Don said as he held out his hand. Michael passed the card back to him. Don's curiosity grew. "Who are you?"

"Michael Bear, Defense against the Dark Arts professor," Michael answered.

"Oh, you poor man," Don said, thinking of the curse. "Well, hope you make it out alive."

"I've been here two years already, since the updates on the wards broke the curse," Michael said with a laugh. "Your concern for my safety is appreciated, though."

"Ah, well, see ya," Don said as he ran back to the entrance. All the way back to the Ministry, damn it! Something was going to go down. He could feel it.

O o O o O

Harry looked around, taking in everything. This was not his first time in the Ministry. He had been here a few times when he was three and four, but this was the first time Albus had allowed him to walk beside him—while holding his hand of course.

Everything seemed so much bigger than the last time they had been here in the original timeline. That time had been when they had first met Unspeakable Jess, the time their deep bond had been created, strengthening the bond that had already been forming due to the war.

"Excited, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, both of them without any glamours, since they were there for a party.

Harry nodded, catching a glimpse of the absurd statue in the main area. Harry almost wished to see the blasted thing explode. So egotistical and arrogant. It was a wonder there had not been an uprising made up of 'inferior' magical creatures. The Wizarding World would see how 'inferior' they really were if they joined Voldemort again as many of them had last time. . . . Harry shook his head, Dumbledore catching his dark emotions concerning it. Glancing back to what Harry was staring at, he instantly understood.

He was about to comment when the Minister came upon them.

"Ah, Albus Dumbledore! And your heir! I'm so happy you have taken the time to come today. Alastor will be quite pleased," he said.

His name was Justin McCormick. Cornelius Fudge was never able to even approach the position of Minister, thanks to the public's cry of wanting serious, hardworking politicians. Dumbledore had not made the same mistake of sitting back and hoping people would wise up on their own as he had last time. No, sometimes it took a respected man to stand firm and make his voice heard. Sometimes people were too accustomed to things to know changes were needed. He was still hopeful of people, but, understandably, the blind faith he once had was gone.

"Since Alastor became an Auror, I have always intended to come to his retirement party," Dumbledore said, Harry scooting closer to his side.

"Of course, and the fact there are an unlimited supply of a variety of cakes doesn't hurt in this decision, does it?" he asked, smirking.

"Cake? No, the icing, Minister, the icing," Albus said seriously, getting a nod of agreement from Harry.

Minister McCormick looked down at Harry, seeing him nod. "So, after the old man's own heart, are you lad?"

Harry blinked, allowing himself to look like a confused child as Albus chuckled.

"Well, to the party, gentlemen," McCormick said, waving his cane toward the direction they were headed.

McCormick was an average looking man with dark hair. He was a pureblood, but was fair and treated all individuals equally, for the most part. His main difference from Fudge was the fact he despised brownnosers, which was a pleasant condition from what Dumbledore had prepared himself for. He also valued his own opinion, more so than Fudge had initially, not coming to Dumbledore at every choice he had to make. This gave more time to Dumbledore to run Hogwarts, rather than spending time trying to assist a brainless, cowardly minister.

They went down a few floors in an elevator, before going down a corridor and entering a grand hall. There were already a large number of people within, no doubt including all of the older aurors, who had retired before Alastor but had worked with him, and a majority of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It didn't surprise Harry and Dumbledore. After all, this was Mad-Eye Moody, the legendary auror.

The large area had a number of tables laden with food, including cakes with impressive layers of icing. There was also a congratulations banner over the length of the hall at the back against the wall.

"Oooo," Harry said, taking in the décor, the giant chandelier, the two balconies on either side, overlooking the possible dance floor, and all of the formally robed people.

"The lad is easily impressed," a voice said behind them, not far from Minister McCormick.

"Not really," Harry answered, recognizing the voice, despite never having formally met the man before in this time.

Harry turned around with Albus to find Alastor standing behind them. He had a larger portion of his nose than his alternate self had had at this time, but his leg and eye were both still prosthetic.

Harry continued looking at him, perfectly at ease before a man who frightened most, innocent or otherwise.

"Wow! Cool eye!" Harry said suddenly. "Can you play catch with it?"

Alastor blinked, before his face contorted and a howl came out of his mouth. Unrestrained laughter.

A number of people stopped and stared, never having heard the man chortle like that, and because of a child no less.

"I like you, boy," he said, once he had calmed enough to speak. He then looked at Dumbledore, who had a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Been teaching the lad well, I see. May make a mighty Auror one of these days, but just the same, I am certain he will make a fine wizard."

Albus took a moment to bask in fatherly pride as Harry tried not to look too embarrassed, particularly with most in the room staring at him with open curiosity and amazement.

"Come, Albus, knowing you, you are looking forward to something sweet," Alastor said, shepherding them to the nearest table.

For a few minutes, they mingled, the Minister going off to speak to some other people a few tables away as Harry kept close to Albus. Alastor had left soon after the Minister to speak with some ancient looking aurors.

Taking an offered cookie from Albus, Harry tried to not appear too self-conscious. He could feel a number of eyes on them, for it wasn't often that the great Albus Dumbledore came to the Ministry with 'the Next Merlin'. He was glad they didn't scramble toward them, though, demanding to shake his hand, or some nonsense, as they had in the original timeline. Perhaps it was because most of these people here were Aurors or related to them and knew if they bugged Dumbledore or his heir they would have Moody to answer to.

There were many stories about how protective Moody had been of them after they had left Godric's Hollow that Halloween. One poor healer never grew back his eyebrows after he strongly suggested removing Harry from the room while Dumbledore was still unconscious.

"Headmaster, if you would pardon me, I have always wanted to meet you and y-your son," a man said hesitantly.

Harry slowly turned, at first unable to believe his ears. Fudge. Cornelius Fudge. A younger and humble Cornelius Fudge. Granted, 'humble' might not be the right word.

"You did attend Hogwarts, if you recall, Cornelius, so you have met me before," Albus said lightly. "If I remember correctly, you were quite talented in Astronomy."

It never ceased to amaze Harry how Albus could degrade someone and compliment them at the same time, leaving them frazzled.

"Er, yes, of course. Thank you. I just, I mean…." He paused, and Harry could feel Albus' amusement as he looked up at the man.

He was wearing a lime green bowler hat and dark robes with barely visible stripes running down them. Fudge noticed Harry looking at him and Harry met his eyes.

Harry could tell the man was nervous and obviously quite taken at being noticed at all by 'The-Boy-Who-Lived'. So much so he was unsure how he should act in front of the four year old.

"This is Cornelius Fudge, Harry. He is an assistant to Dean Marmalade in the Department of Magical Transport and Upkeep," Albus said, taking pity on the man.

"Oh, like the Knight Bus?" Harry asked.

"Yes, my department helps ensure they undergo routine maintenance and are up to snuff on standards," Fudge said, happy to offer any facts he had to show he was knowledgeable and an important member of society.

Harry wondered if Fudge had changed for the better with all the changes they had caused over the years. He had clearly backed away from politics, which was definitely a positive for the rest of the Wizarding World. . . .

"It pleases me to learn past students are making something of themselves," Albus said. "Working for the Ministry to serve much of the Wizarding population is quite a responsibility."

Fudge beamed. Butter anyone?

"It was nice meeting you, Mr. Fudge," Harry said.

"Likewise," Fudge said, happily bowing and taking his leave, absolutely tickled that Harry had said it was nice to meet him. He migrated toward the Minister.

Albus shook his head slightly. He wasn't surprised.

"Well, Harry, shall we mosey over to the lemon cakes?" Albus asked.

Harry was torn between nodding enthusiastically and rolling his eyes. He settled on giving a small smile with a short nod.

Going to the table, they found a familiar man beside it.

"Ah, Mr. Shacklebolt," Albus said pleasantly, taking the large black man by surprise since his back was to them.

Kingsley turned, his eyes widening ever so slightly when he realized exactly who had greeted him so happily — as if they were long time friends or something.

"Headmaster, good morning," he said formally, giving him a nod before noticing Harry.

"Hi!" Harry said, holding out his hand. Kingsley gently took it, swallowing it up in his large hand.

Kingsley, in their future, had helped them a great deal, and, near the end, had gallantly died for Dumbledore. Kingsley definitely had a place in their hearts.

"Have you caught any bad guys?" Harry asked excitedly.

"Not recently," Kingsley said, giving a soft smile.

"You have just been made head of a squad, correct?" Albus asked, appraisingly.

Harry was surprised to note that Kingsley became slightly … embarrassed? It was almost as if he was having confidence issues, which, Harry supposed, made some sense. He was a fairly young auror.

"Yes, sir. I'm head of a training squad. I help prepare new aurors to enter active squads."

"And I can't think of a better man for the job. I certainly remember your OWL and NEWT scores," Albus said.

Kingsley barely gave any hint of his reaction, though Harry and Albus could tell he was quite proud to hear such a compliment from his old Headmaster.

"Papa, are OWLs when all those really ol — uh… those people come and test everyone?" Harry asked, playing his part and causing Kingsley to hide a smile at his near slip of 'old people'.

It was so fun to play innocent kid.

"Yes, Harry. I'm sure you remember Griselda Marchbanks?"

"The lady who always talks like she wants to give you a cookie? I like her," Harry said. "Was she like that when you were little?"

"Not as much, but some," Albus said, before turning his attention back to Kingsley.

As they spoke, Harry managed to get a second piece of lemon cake, and before he looked up, Kingsley had politely bid farewell and was going to another table, respectfully allowing others a chance to speak to the Headmaster.

Harry lifted the cake to take a bite, but before he could sink his teeth into it, he felt a . . . disturbance at the border of his magic.

He instinctively turned, sending feelings of alarm to Dumbledore as he dropped his cake and raised his hands before him, finding a bolt of green coming right at him. He already felt his magic gathering in front of him as he straightened his arms, the very blatant killing curse slamming into his near invisible magic before all became pandemonium.

O o O o O

Jess and Colin hurried into the ministry party, intent on finding the Dumbledores. It didn't take long. Albus' bright robes, resplendent with moving orange embroidery, pointed him out almost immediately. Jess shook her head. With assassins after him, they would have to talk more about blending in with a crowd.

Jess was about to approach them when she noticed Harry's magic swirl, reaching out in a protective way. This was something they had not yet seen in their tests, and she knew something was very wrong. Harry, as if pulled or alerted by his magic, whipped his head around and dropped his cake. Jess followed his gaze as he threw up his hands, a hauntingly familiar look in his eyes. The same look she had viewed in Don's memory from that Halloween night.

A flash of sickly green magic, that could only be an AK, caught her eye as it sped toward Harry. There was no way she could block it with an object from this distance. She fearfully followed the path of the AK, only to see it come to an abrupt halt when it hit a wall of pure chaotic magic emanating from Harry's palms. Peering closer, she saw lines connecting from the wall to Harry's hands, primarily his right, and then a thick line from his torso to Albus's center.

Seeing that the Dumbledores were okay and moderately protected with the wall still up, Jess turned her attention to the source of the AK. From the balcony, a body fell over the railing, a dark robed figure stepping forward to look down. Don. She felt a sense of pride in her husband as it was clear he had taken out the assassin.

"FIRE!" Harry screamed as a swath of fire split the room in half, catching many in its wake. The smell of charred flesh filled the air and was soon coupled with screams as the room fell into chaos.

Something was off about the fire, a malevolence that wasn't present in ordinary fire. Feindfyre, she noted with horrified dismay as another burst of it went directly for Albus.

O o O o O

Don sliced the throat of the assassin with a small knife and then calmly watched him tumble off the balcony. Most wizards would prefer to kill with a spell, but Don liked to feel that the person was dead. Something seemed off on this one, though, but he had no time to think on it as bright fire shot across the middle of the room. Good thing Colin and Jess were at the edge.

Knowing the fire suggested a second caster, Don searched and quickly found him. He was stepping through the fire, controlling it with his sword. A sword? The one on the balcony had been using a sword. This reminded Don of something, but his primary objective was to take down the assassins.

As his first kill hit the floor, he gracefully leapt off the balcony, landing in a crouch. The few aurors on this side of the fire were trying to protect innocents, organize defenses, and figure out what the hell was going on, especially after a body had hit the floor with a dull thud nearby.

Don narrowly missed landing on the body as the Aurors leveled their wands at him.

"Bloody hell," Don uttered.

Of course they would think he, who was only trying to help, was a crazed murderer and not a kind wizard eliminating bothersome assassins.

He cursed the wards on all ministry buildings that limited apparation to a few special places, which, of course, were not even on this side of the Ministry.

"I don't have time for this!" Don lifted his wand and began banishing people out of his way. There was no way they would die from it, and if they were hurt, well, St Mungo's existed for a reason.

O o O o O

Dread filled Albus as the fiendfyre approached. He had seen Death Eaters try to cast it in battle, only to see it gobble up both allies and enemies alike, and finally turn on its summoner. He raised his wand, hoping to at least turn it aside. In battles such as those he and Harry had fought in the future, this involved a simple turning onto the oncoming enemies. However, in this place crowded with innocents and allies, it would not be so straightforward.

He felt the steady drain of his magic due to the wall Harry had formed. It was tiring, but at least he would not be attacked from behind. Albus reflected that even with the drain he should be able to affect the fire's path, and perhaps gain control of it if he worked it just right. With that thought, he engaged a battle of will for control of the fire, taking on the one who had cast the spell. The will he came up against was much stronger than he had expected, but he managed to weave his magic so tightly against them that he could feel them straining to keep control. Sweat on his brow, Dumbledore guided the fire to the ceiling, the one place where it couldn't harm anyone. He saw the fire curve up as the caster's control waned, but then it trembled angrily, and shifted.

The mass of fiendfyre was at the ceiling when control was wrenched from Albus. A figure stepped out from the line of fire recently placed across the center of the room. He was holding a smoking sword and was strangely unburned. The figure kept his eyes not on the fire, but on Albus, and Albus found that his attempt to reclaim the fire had little to no effect. The swordsman brought his hands together, and when he pulled them apart, one sword became two. As they did, the twisting shaft of damned fire split above them.

Albus' eyes narrowed suddenly, a jolt of painful memories passing through his mind in an instant. The fall and total destruction of Hogwarts. He had only been able to watch as five vampires, who had newly allied with Voldemort, controlled a huge mass of fiendfyre, shattering the very foundations of the venerable castle.

Harry and Albus had both encountered them in later battles, and they quickly learned how to recognize this elite and ruthless clan of vampires. Even other vampire clans despised and avoided them. They cast using swords, controlling demonic fire with practiced ease. And they had used their ability to erase Hogwarts from existence, and had mercilessly murdered over half of his remaining students in one horrid night.

Albus met the eyes of the duel blade wielding vampire, rage like none he had ever felt before rising within him.

His steel blue eyes seemed to glow with an unmatchable fury as Harry just behind him let his hands fall away from the shield to redirect them toward Albus.

Albus felt a rush of power, Harry thrusting all of the power from the shield through the bond as the vampire wove the fiendfyre above them for a second attack.

Dumbledore rose up to his full height, powerful magic rippling off his frame ten times as it was before, if not more, as he whipped his wand about, his lips soundlessly moving just as fast.

Now was not the time for mercy.

O o O o O

Jess continued forward, relieved Dumbledore seemed to have a handle on deflecting fiendfyre despite the magic draining from him to help Harry maintain the shield. She was about to help Dumbledore with the fire, but suddenly wondered why Harry was bothering to maintain the shield. Hadn't he seen the assassin fall?

She looked over, expecting to find a body void of any magic or life force on the floor beyond the scrambling and terrified people, only to discover the body was raising itself up and had magic to spare. It was now clearly ebbing gray magic.

"They're Vampires!" she shouted, not caring how the panic rose tenfold in the room. She had to let her team know!

Not wasting any time, she motioned Colin behind her to help Dumbledore as she dashed forward, catching her husband bulldozing his way toward the fire-assassin from the corner of her eye. The balcony-assassin was now hers.

Focusing her attention to the task before her, she wove her way around frantic people, most now huddling beside chairs or fallen tables, coming to the clearly alive vampire. He turned toward her, the bloody gash on his neck closing as he assessed her. She narrowed her eyes, the people near fearfully edging back as the vampire's magic and her own churned in the air.

The vampire raised his scimitar, its curved blade layered with dark magic invisible to all but her.

"You'll die here, witch!" he shouted, slashing the sword before him, throwing out a wave of hideous magic.

She waved her wand before her, promptly cancelling the spell. Seeing magic and the makeup of spells can often be very helpful in removing them.

"I'll die someday, but not here," she said with a smirk.

O o O o O

Colin didn't watch Jess' progress and totally missed Don's advance through the chaos as he moved forward, only to pause and give a heavy blink.

As he had run forward, he had watched Dumbledore redirect the flames up and was certain the old man had gained total control, but that was suddenly no longer the case as a duel blade wielding madman stepped out of the flames.

The fiendfyre taking up at least a quarter of the ceiling split into two separate entities — entities, this fire had a form of consciousness — but he was not prepared for what he saw next.

Something in Dumbledore snapped as he looked upon the vampire. In that moment, Colin fully understood why Albus Dumbledore was the only wizard Voldemort feared. He barely took notice of Harry's new stance behind the old wizard as he bolted forward, feeling he needed to get as close as he could to the Dumbledores as fast as he could.

He nearly gasped at the magic backlash that brushed across his skin, and he couldn't help but feel a tad sorry for the poor assassin who had bitten off more than he could chew. Chunks of floor were now missing in front of Dumbledore, who was only just starting his attack. Colin raised his wand, at the moment only wanting to keep the fire at the ceiling since he wasn't sure of the caster's power and didn't want to openly reveal himself just yet. The flames being contained could easily be blamed on Dumbledore for the time being. However, hearing the first few notes of an overture in his head, he prepared himself in case he had to do something drastic.

Still moving forward, having to shove past a number of frightened people trying to make it to the narrow double doors, he saw Dumbledore sweep his wand around his head, making all juice and other party liquids in cups suddenly vaporize. Colin's eyes widened, never having seen such a massive selective banishing charm cast before, but he quickly learned it was not merely a complex banishing charm.

The vampire screamed, releasing a terrible high pitched squeal that would deafen a banshee. His drenched clothes and wet skin were steaming and burning significantly from . . . holy water?

The fiendfyre twisted horribly in that instant, the caster clearly having relinquished all control to the fire itself so it would nearly be impossible for anyone to regain control. The Dumbledores seemed to pay no mind to the raging inferno rolling erratically above them as they focused their sights to the vampire who had just taken another wave of Dumbledore's magical onslaught.

The fiendfyre suddenly plummeted.

Colin acted, hearing the soft strains of music swell into the easily defined 1812 Overture.

Jumping on top of a table that had managed to remain solid and on all of its legs, Colin stood and expertly waved his wand, his free hand weaving about in a unique pattern at the flames. Hoping no one would be dumb enough to try to interrupt his casting (such as confused aurors) he felt his hold on the fiendfyre materialize.

_Ah-hah!_ he thought, hearing the canons in his head as he thrust the rebellious flames back up just before they came down on Dumbledore and all those below.

Grasping his wand, he curved the fire about, collecting the malicious flames back into one entity again. With an unrelenting glint in his eyes, Colin compacted the fire as much as he could and aimed it at the still screaming vampire. Dumbledore seemed to be mercilessly amplifying the potency of the holy water, while Harry was . . . what was Harry doing? Colin refocused, deciding it best to ask questions later as he gave the fiendfyre a new command.

The vampire's screams suddenly fell off, no doubt seeing its coming demise.

O o O o O

Jess deflected another curse, about to retaliate with some of her own when a blur dashed across her vision before slamming into the unsuspecting vampire.

An auror. Brave or foolish, she didn't know, but the vampire was rammed down onto the floor where the crazed auror began pounding on him with his magically strengthened fists. Jess could see swirling layers of magic coming from the man's knuckles.

_Must be a muggle-born_, Jess mused.

She was about to fire a powerful and well aimed curse at the assassin, but then the screaming vampire, who was somewhere behind her, suddenly shut up, and the assassin before her gave a jolt, before vanishing.

An event initiating portkey. Jess could see the lingering magic from it disperse into the air.

Evidently, it was set to activate upon the death of the other assassin.

O o O o O

The raging firestorm streaked down, Dumbledore leaping back in surprise as the hellish-blaze shot right in front of him, nearly taking his hat, before slamming into the dripping vampire. The holy water instantly vaporized, which was soon followed by the total annihilation of the would-be-assassin. His corpse landed in a heap of dust, dry bone, and . . . was that a wedge of wood?

With a wave of his wand, Colin banished the fiendfyre to where it had come and quenched the flames running down the middle of the room with another simple wave.

The place was utterly silent, staring at either him, Dumbledore, or Harry.

And then someone broke the silence.

"Colin! I should kill you! You nearly barbequed me! A little warning next time?! I had already staked the monster! He was already dead!" Don shouted, standing just beyond the crispy remains of the vampire.

_Ah, so that is what that piece of wood is. A stake,_ Colin thought.

"Oh. Sorry, Don. I guess I didn't see you," Colin said simply.

"You're lucky I can evade, or you would be answering to my wife right now."

Colin blinked, paling at the thought.

O o O o O

"You failed? I thought your people were the best."

"They are. Circumstances were not right. I warned you about launching an attack at the Ministry." The speaker paused. "And now they know they have been targeted."

"You'll just have to do better. I want them eliminated."

"Of course, but it will take more time now, since they are aware. We must wait for them to think they are out of danger; then we will attack."

"Very well, I suppose you know best."

"Oh, I do." The speaker grinned.

* * *

A/N: Well, there it is. . . .


	15. Realities

Disclaimer: Really? We don't own this? Are you sure? Darn, must have been a dream then.

**Questions Concerning: **

_Harry's House_: When/if we cover any of Harry's Hogwarts' years remains to be seen. Right now, we haven't really thought that far into that portion of the future, so, like us, you will just have to wait and see :P.

_Harry wanting to see Ron again_: The Dumbledores really have no valid reason to introduce themselves to the Weasley's that informally. With Neville and Luna, they do. As for Harry wanting to rekindle his friendship with Ron, he does, but knows the dangers of doing so. Ron is a child, and Harry is an individual in the public eye who is also in the crosshairs of many crazy people. Does anyone think introducing a five year old Ron to that would be wise? Also, it is not that Harry has -never- seen Ron and that Ron has never seen Harry. They have occasionally seen one another at Ministry dinners/party's, it's just that they kept their distance from each other. Harry out of caution, and Ron out of awe and admiration. Hope that eases anyone's concerns.

* * *

**Part 15: Realities**

Frank and Alice Longbottom arrived at the Ministry, stepping out of one of the many fireplaces, to find the place in a state of organized panic.

Healers were running to and fro, aurors and other members of related departments were darting everywhere, and reporters were scattered among them.

Frank and Alice looked at each other, quickly realizing where the flow of people was going in and out from. As they dashed forward, the other aurors let them pass, instantly recognizing them. They called out to Amos Diggory, who was about to rush past them.

"Amos, what has happened?" Frank asked, stopping him with a firm hand.

"The Dumbledores — there was an assassination attempt. An AK was involved, as well as feindfyre," he said. "It happened in the Grand Ministry Hall."

"Fiendfyre?!" Alice gasped, not waiting for her husband to turn as she suddenly grabbed his hand and dragged him away.

On their way, they only became more concerned as the wounded were being carried out on stretchers from the large chamber to be portkeyed to St. Mungo's. Wands were out, collecting and recording data, and people with quills were jotting down statements from survivors. They heard bits and pieces.

"It was terrible!"

"I've never been so scared in my life, and Dumbledore stopped the fiendfyre and did something to that one assassin, making him scream horribly!"

"There was fire everywhere!"

"Young Harry somehow . . . I don't know. Whatever he did, it absorbed the killing curse . . . it was . . . unbelievable."

"I thought I was going to die!"

"This one trouser-less ginger jumped on a table and controlled and banished the fire while Dumbledore had his hands full with the assassin. Dumbledore was furious. I've never seen anyone so angry. . . . I never would have thought I would have seen _Dumbledore _that angry."

Gently but quickly passing people, they entered the large room. Alice gasped while Frank barely restrained a curse.

Down the middle of the room was a long row of badly burned floor. Another portion had a line of uplifted tiles and stone. Pushed onto one side of the room were overturned and damaged tables and chairs, but what first had drawn their eyes were the dozen or so covered bodies scattered along the once pristine dance floor.

Alice looked up, finding the entire ceiling utterly blackened and the chandelier burned beyond recognition, before going back to scanning the rest of the room, trying to find the Dumbledores.

They were nowhere in sight. Alice and Frank only saw frantic ministry workers going every which way, scanning the area with their wands and gathering things that may provide them with evidence of those responsible.

Among all of the orderly chaos were some people who Alice immediately zeroed in on not being 'normal' ministry officials.

One was a tall, darkly clothed man with . . . blood on his hand? The other was a man with bright red hair who seemed to have forgotten half of his wardrobe – the trouser-less ginger? There were two others, but they seemed of little note.

The Longbottom couple slowly approached, for whatever reason feeling these people would know where the Dumbledores were. The man with the red hair looked up as they came forward.

"If you are looking for the Dumbledores, Albus Dumbledore felt it best for them to return immediately to Hogwarts as it is too difficult to secure their safety here in the midst of . . . all of this," he said, motioning around them.

"Were they hurt?" Alice asked.

"Not greatly, and they were more exhausted than hurt," he said, rather unhelpfully Alice thought.

"Who are you?" Frank asked. "You are not aurors."

"We are Unspeakables," another of them said, stepping up beside the red haired man. "The head of our department left with the Dumbledores."

"Were you all here when it happened?" Frank asked.

"Three of us were," the red haired man said simply. "We cannot answer any more questions concerning the assassination attempt due to the current investigation of the persons responsible, but the information that can be released will be shared with the public via the Daily Prophet."

"'Persons'?" Alice asked.

"There were two here. One of them was eliminated," the woman said, nodding slightly to an ashy pile behind them. "The other managed to portkey away."

"Anna, they will learn everything in the Prophet's next edition," the large man said.

"Exactly, Curt, no point in making them wait," Anna replied.

"Thank you, we appreciate that. Is there, um, anything else you can tell us?" Alice asked, not looking at the red haired man. Though not guilty of indecent exposure, his bare-legged state was embarrassing, and he didn't seem to be a wellspring of information anyway.

"They were vampires, trained and experienced," Anna continued, ignoring her coworkers' reactions.

"Anna, by Psylocke's arse," Curt muttered.

"What? It's not like that's not going to get out. Jess shouted it out for all to hear during the fight," Anna said, also recalling the fact there were reporters present at the time as well.

"Fine. Carry on telling them about the attack then," Curt said with an annoyed shrug, turning and walking off to examine one of the charred areas of floor, ignoring and avoiding the on-duty aurors and ministry workers also examining the scene.

O o O o O

Dumbledore laid Harry down on the bed while Jess stood quietly behind him.

"May I examine him? Make sure his magic has settled?" Jess asked softly.

Dumbledore nodded, taking a seat on the side of the bed up against Harry as Jess stepped forward, her eyes scanning both of their forms before she pulled out her wand.

"His magic is fluctuating, and the bond between you is as strong as I have ever seen it. I don't know what to make of it, but his magic seems to be stabilizing and the bond is slowly returning back to normal," she said. "Though . . . his hand," she added, moving closer.

Dumbledore followed her gaze, wishing, not for the first time, that he could see how she saw magic.

"Can you open your hand for me, Harry?" she asked gently, squinting her eyes somewhat.

Tiny glimmers of tears appeared at the corners of Harry's eyes, but he didn't make a sound as he slowly opened his hand.

Jess' eyes widened. "I see remnants of the AK, but it's been warped."

"Warped?" Dumbledore asked, peering closer at Harry's scarred palm.

He found that the scars had a slight sheen to them, a greenish gleam that swirled and pulsed, seemingly in sync with his heartbeat.

"Papa, it's hot," Harry whispered.

"Harry, may I try something to soothe your hand? Your hand is feeling too much magic at the moment because of what has happened, and that's why it is uncomfortable for you," Jess said.

Harry nodded, letting Jess cup his hand in both of hers. After a moment, Harry's eyes widened, before relaxing, which was soon followed by the rest of his body. Dumbledore could only guess what Jess had done, but it was clear it had helped Harry. Jess eased back and stood back up, shaking her hands out.

She looked at Albus and their eyes met as Harry closed his eyes in exhaustion and relief before Albus turned his head toward the hall that eventually led to his office.

"A few of my professors are waiting outside of my office door," Dumbledore stated. "Well, they can wait a little bit longer."

"Do you want me to inform them what has occurred and that you both need rest?" Jess asked.

"That would be appreciated," Dumbledore answered, remaining on the edge of the bed as he brushed some of Harry's hair with his thumb.

Jess silently walked out, closing the door behind her.

O o O o O

_A few hours later..._

The Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot looked out over the conference table. This was not a judicial meeting in the traditional sense, as they had no one to try. However, the outcome of this meeting would be very important, as it would decide how the Ministry of Magic would proceed with the knowledge of these blatant attacks against a respected leader of light and his heir.

Albus Dumbledore had just called the meeting to order. The six department heads, along with the Minister of Magic, the elders of the Wizengamot, and a scribe, were present. Once he had called the meeting to order, as was his duty, Albus sat and let the minister take over.

"I apologize for bringing you here on such short notice," Minister Justin McCormick began. "However, as I am sure some of you already know, a grave event occurred today. A room full of ministry officials, heads of families, and aurors were attacked this morning. Although the assailants were dispatched, this is something that requires the attention of all department heads."

A stunned silence. An attack _within _the ministry? It was unthinkable.

Minister McCormick let the whispers die down before he continued. "This attack cost the lives of eleven people and injured many others. Our purpose here is to determine, if possible, the origins of the attack, reasons, and our response. I will give the floor now to Albus Dumbledore, who was present at the attack."

Albus stood as the minister sat. "Not only was I there, I was the target — I and my son." Murmurs around the table. "As far as I can tell, two vampires attempted to assassinate us. If it weren't for the quick action of my son and a handful of Unspeakables, they might have succeeded." He paused before giving the gathered heads all the information he remembered from the attack. Withholding information now would be stupid, even if revealing meant that eyes would be turned to Harry. Incorrect intelligence could hurt him and Harry much worse in the long run, or even the short run.

After he spoke, Albus sat back at the table, ready for the much more informal questioning now that speeches were finished.

Minister McCormick spoke first. "Madam Astor, have you heard anything about these vampires from your office?"

Madame Hypatia Astor, Head of the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, responded with, "When I heard of the incident today, I spoke with Mr. Dodge, the Vampire liaison. He said that the vampires as a whole do not perform, as they put it, 'petty services' such as assassinations. Of course, anyone who has done an in-depth study of history knows that the vampires did once perform these services. Since the conception of our current Ministry layout, however, the vampires have stayed out of politics, including assassinations. If these assassins were vampires, then they must be a rogue group."

"They were vampires," Albus said firmly.

"Of course they were," Madame Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement replied. "I spoke with many who saw one of the assassins fall with his throat slit, but he did not die."

"I think the best way to deal with this occurrence is to ask the vampire ambassador for more information directly," Minister McCormick said. "Even if it is not the vampires as a whole, the ambassador may know of a particular rogue group who would do this."

"As soon as this meeting concludes, I will contact the ambassador," Madame Astor said.

Mr. Alexander Blythe, Head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, spoke next. "The next item we should discuss is the way in which these assassins were dispatched." He turned to Albus. "You said that another person controlled the feindfyre that was on you?"

"Yes," Albus said.

"Who was that?" Mr. Blythe asked. "In order for someone to control that level of feindfyre, he must have outstanding control."

Albus hesitated. While he had no problem with telling who Colin was, he didn't think he could because of the contract he had signed.

"It was one of mine," the Head of the Department of Mysteries answered in an androgynous voice. Behind the veil, the person could be either gender, any age, and of any upbringing. Only the Minister knew who this person actually was, but they called the person Isaac. "Some of my people heard of a possible attack and went to warn Albus, but as they reached him, the attack began. I have already questioned my people and will answer any relevant questions concerning them."

With that revelation, Mr. Blythe nodded and said that answer was satisfactory. Everyone knew that the Department of Mysteries' researched many things, and for them to have someone who had such an advanced control of magic was not out of the realm of possibility. "In that case," Mr. Blythe turned to a different page of notes, "I would like to understand more of what young Mr. Dumbledore did. How is it possible that he stopped a killing curse?"

"Yes, we've heard your explanations of how he survived the curses when he was a baby, but that does not explain this situation," Mr. Bartimus Crouch Sr., Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, put in.

The truth would not hurt here. Albus replied, "I'm not entirely sure, but it is fortunate that he was able to stop the curses."

"Of course, but are you not the least bit curious as to why he was able to stop them?" Mr. Crouch asked.

"Yes, and I will do what I can to find out why, but it is a delicate situation," Albus explained. "After all, I wouldn't allow an AK to be shot at him as an experiment."

The rest of the table looked appalled. "No one would suggest such a thing," Madame Bones said in a placating manner. "However, the fact remains that much could be learned from the boy. While you are a more than capable wizard, are you sure you're the one to study him, for lack of a better term."

Albus did not let the anger grow. After all, under normal circumstances, they had a point. He even admitted it to himself by letting the Unspeakables work with Harry. Of course, if these were normal circumstances, Harry would be dead.

Albus cleared his throat, about to reply, when he noticed a tiny movement on the edge of the table. Looking closer, he saw a familiar looking beetle that had no place in the room. Immediately, he conjured a glass and trapped it.

"Mr. Dumbledore?" Mr. Blythe questioned.

"I am sorry," Albus replied, "but this bug intrigued me. I have never seen such markings on a normal beetle."

"Is this really the time for bug-catching, Dumbledore?" Mr. Dean Marmalade, Head of the Department of Magical Transportation asked with a smile.

"May I?" Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports asked.

Albus pushed the glass toward him, and Mr. Bagman, an avid bug catcher, examined the beetle inside. "I have never seen such markings either," he said excitedly. "This may be a new species all together!"

"Might I examine the creature?" Isaac asked with an outstretched hand. Mr. Bagman passed the glass. "Interesting. If I may, I would like to examine the creature further."

"Sure," Bagman shrugged. "As long as you let me know the results."

"Very well," Isaac answered.

"As interesting as this all is," Madame Bones said with a hint of annoyance, "perhaps we could get back to our discussion of young Harry?"

"As has been pointed out," Isaac began after casting what Albus recognized as a ward of silence around the beetle, "Harry should be studied. In fact, that is what we have been doing."

"The Department of Mysteries is studying him?" Minister McCormick said incredulously.

"Yes, we have been working with him, and with this new development will continue to work with him," Isaac answered. "I hope that is satisfactory to all." Isaac turned his veiled face to each person.

"What are the results?" Mr. Blythe asked.

"As I have said before," Albus answered, irritated, "that is nobody's business. I am not about to allow Harry's magical abilities, impressive or not, be exposed to encourage the world to talk about him. He is enough as it is."

"But—" Mr. Crouch began.

"The results are promising," Isaac interrupted. "Other than that, I agree with Mr. Dumbledore. If he wishes to reveal further results, he may. If our findings affect the entire magical community, then they, of course, will be shared."

There was some grumbling, but the others saw the wisdom in this.

"What of the attacks themselves?" Mr. Marmalade questioned. "Do we think they are related to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in any way?"

"Well," Madame Bones answered, "You-Know-Who was not allied with vampires as far as we know, but as has been discussed, the vampires do not do assassinations for fees. If they were hired, they would have to get something more from the exchange than money. Mr. Dumbledore, do you know of any grievance the vampires may have with you?"

"Not with me personally," Albus answered.

"If they had succeeded, it would have definitely made a statement against the wizarding world," Madame Astor put in. "I will look into possible motives."

"While we're on the subject of the assassins," Mr. Crouch began, "I have some questions about their mode of casting magic."

"Yes?" Madame Bones said.

"I was also attending the party," Mr. Crouch said, "and I noticed that the assailants used swords to cast through. It was my understanding that vampires cannot use spells such as we do. Were spells stored in the swords themselves or have the vampires found a way to cast?"

Mr. Blythe answered. "We've been studying the artifacts, and it seems to be more complicated than simply storing spells. With more time, we should know for sure, but it seems to access their innate magic."

Albus had never had a chance to look over one of the swords, but he and Harry, along with Curt, had come up with a similar theory in the other timeline.

"That seems viable," Madame Astor said.

There was a short silence, then Minister McCormick spoke. "If there are no more questions, we should discuss what to tell the media. What should the public at large know?"

"First of all, that an attack happened," Madame Bones answered. "Too many people saw everything to cover it up in any way."

"I agree," Mr. Blythe said. "Therefore, we should publish who was attacked, as well as who attacked."

"Make sure to let them know that this is not an act of aggression by all vampires," Madame Astor inserted.

"We should also say some about how they were defeated," Mr. Crouch added.

"I don't want Harry to be questioned," Albus said. If they could avoid people trying to swarm him whenever they once again went out in public, he wanted to.

"Just say that both Dumbledores defended themselves, with help from Ministry officials," Madame Bones said. "That way the focus is not on the child."

"I would appreciate that," Albus said. However, he had a sneaking suspicion that the news would focus on Harry anyway.

"It goes without saying that no one need know the Unspeakables were involved," Isaac said with a bored tone.

"Another thing to say would be that security will increase in the Ministry," Minister McCormick added. "We should come up with new measures to insure nothing like this happens again."

All agreed, and the meeting was ended. The minister held a parchment with notes on what to release to the public, and Albus made his way to Isaac as the others left for their departments.

"How can I help you?" Isaac asked, transfiguring the glass with the beetle in it to a jar. They were the only ones left in the room.

"I would like to remove a prophecy," Albus answered. "Rather, my son would."

"The prophecy refers to him?" Isaac said, straightening from the table.

"Yes, and we would like to remove it from the Hall," Albus said.

"Very well, I will make an appointment with the appropriate people and let you know when you can come in," Isaac answered.

"Thank you," Albus said. With strange things happening that didn't occur in the first timeline, he didn't want to take any chances.

O o O o O

Flitwick was in a chair reading a book, having been asked by Albus to watch over Harry while he was gone.

Flitwick glanced over at Harry from above his book, finding the boy clutching 'Poon, the stuffed phoenix he had gotten from the Unspeakables when he was a toddler. The red phoenix was clearly loved, and despite the cleaning and repairing spells Albus cast, wear was evident in the frayed feathers sticking up from the bird's head and in the slightly matted tail feathers. Harry's hand tightened slightly on the stuffed phoenix's back before relaxing again. 'Poon's head was pinned under Harry's chin, while his wings were trapped under Harry's small hand.

It was quite adorable, Flitwick decided, before going back to his book, 'Everything and Anything Charmed'.

Harry had been asleep for well over two hours before he stirred, and, as he did, Flitwick quickly put down his book and turned to him.

"Where's Papa?" Harry called sleepily.

"Albus had to go to an emergency meeting at the Ministry, due to what has happened," Flitwick said, waving his wand to brighten the lights of the room to a soft glow.

He was always amazed how Harry knew when Albus was around or not. He reasoned it was because of the bond.

"Oh. When did he go? How long have I been asleep?" Harry asked, rubbing his eyes with his good hand while leaving his scarred one holding 'Poon.

"He left about an hour ago, and you've only slept about two hours. How are you feeling?"

"Just a little tired now," Harry answered.

Flitwick levitated himself, along with his chair, closer to the edge of the bed. He looked closely at Harry, as if expecting to find something.

"Albus told me what happened. It must have been pretty scary," Flitwick said.

Flitwick took in Harry's posture and how he was holding 'Poon. He seemed relaxed enough, as if he had just had a good natural nap, rather than one induced by magical exhaustion and shock of almost having been killed. He didn't know if this relieved his worries or made them worse.

Harry shrugged. "A little I guess, but there wasn't really time to be scared. Uncle Filius?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"I thought vampires were neutral, why would they try to hurt me and Papa?"

The way Harry had calmly asked, no emotion at all coming through that revealed fear or worry, but rather curiosity and confusion, made Flitwick realize even more how different Harry was from other children.

"I don't know, Harry. There are many vampire clans spread out across the world and we don't know very much about them. However, it is very possible the two vampires that attacked were rogue."

"Hmm." Harry didn't look so convinced, but contemplative for a long second before bolting up right in his bed. "Can I draw?"

Flitwick blinked. "Sure, Harry." Ah, the spontaneity of youth.

Harry hopped off the bed and Flitwick watched him go to the little desk (the second one he owned), plop down in the chair, and take a crayon to parchment.

Harry certainly was an interesting child.

Flitwick was content to watch Harry begin to draw some sort of large round object on the page, but Harry stopped barely a quarter through.

"Nope! Wrong color!" Harry exclaimed, grabbing a red one before slapping that down a second later. "Ew!" Harry shook out his hand, as if he had just touched something gross.

"Something wrong, Harry?" Flitwick asked, a bit confused.

"Oh, no. Not really," Harry said, looking up.

"Is there something on that crayon? I can scourgify it for you if you wish."

"No, it just isn't right for this picture."

"So you said 'ew' and shook out your hand as if you had touched a globberworm?"

Harry looked sheepish as he muttered, "It felt yucky."

Flitwick decided to hop off the chair and make his way to the desk to see what Harry was drawing. Harry restrained himself from snatching the parchment and hiding it as Flitwick peered down onto the desktop and blinked. Heavily.

"What are you drawing, Harry? Is this a rune?" he asked, keeping his voice light, despite his internal feelings of surprise, alarm, and amazement.

Harry nodded, tracing a drawn edge with his first finger. Flitwick noticed it was his right hand.

"What does it do?" Flitwick asked encouragingly, taking in the detailed work of the wondrous child.

There were several smaller runes surrounding a large incomplete one. Each was made up of an array of colors, some curving lines trailing off to intertwine together around the border of the page.

"Um, it's for papa's candy."

"Ah, but what does it do?"

Harry stifled a giggle. For whatever reason, the purpose of this network of runes was funny enough to make his unease of revealing more of his capabilities disappear.

"Change the color of his candies."

Flitwick's eyes twinkled. "Does he know you're making this?"

"No. . . ."

Flitwick didn't bother trying to contain himself as he broke into a fit of laughter.

Harry smiled as he picked up a green crayon, bringing it up to finish the large circle with a content sigh. After he had calmed down, Flitwick continued to watch Harry work, and after seven more crayons (four of which were 'not right', 'yucky', or 'slimy') Harry finished it.

"All done?" Flitwick asked.

"Yup," Harry said, picking it up and leaving the room.

"Where are you going, Harry?" Flitwick asked, quickly following the boy.

The lad looked like he was on a mission. Flitwick decided not to take any chances.

"Shh," Harry said, hurrying now, as if worried someone would catch him.

Flitwick entered Albus' office after Harry, who scurried forward to the Headmaster's desk and clamored up onto the chair to lean precariously toward the desk with one of the parchment corners held securely between his dry lips. Placing one hand on the top of the desk to balance himself, Harry pushed the glass bowl full of countless lemon drops aside.

Flitwick pulled out his wand, concerned Harry was going to slip and either fall and hurt himself or push the bowl too far and make it crash onto the floor. Thankfully, Harry did neither and quickly placed the rune covered parchment where the large, flat bottom bowl had been. Shifting forward, Harry was now completely kneeling on the desk, allowing himself the ability to lift the bowl and cover the parchment which somehow fit perfectly under it, hiding it completely from view.

Flitwick would later wonder how Harry had done that. Parchment squares were wider than the one he had had, which meant he must have taken measurements and made accurate adjustments to the page with scissors, since the edges had not been torn. How could he have done all of that correctly and without Albus noticing?

"There!" Harry said with a glint in his eye before growing concerned and nervous as he hurried to get down. "You won't tell Papa I climbed on his desk, will you?"

Flitwick glanced at the bowl with the perfectly concealed rune network underneath and was about to make a proposition when the fireplace flared green.

"Papa!" Harry shouted, privately trying to stuff his emotions down into a deep corner of his mind. Hopefully, it would be enough and Albus wouldn't detect any of his nervousness.

Albus turned and smiled.

"Ah, Harry. You've been good for Filius, I assume?" Albus asked, moving to his desk.

Harry nodded vigorously, watching Albus move his hand toward the bowl as he sat down. Flitwick hid a smile. Harry kept himself from looking expectantly.

"Lemon drop?" Albus asked, his forefinger and thumb closing around a single lemon drop.

The lemon drop Albus lifted from the bowl instantly turned from yellow to a glowing purple. Harry feigned a gasp, which was quickly followed by a genuine giggle.

"Wha-?!" Albus gasped, bringing the little sphere of sour purple candy up for his eye to examine.

"Your candy!" Harry said, trying to sound just as surprised as Albus looked, though it was clear he was entertained by the color changing event.

"Oh, jolly Merlin, Albus. Is this a new brand of lemon drops?" Flitwick asked cheerfully, bouncing on his heels a little.

Harry was impressed.

"Uh. No," Albus said, confused.

"Oh, dear. Is this a defective batch?" Flitwick asked, concerned.

Albus' eyes narrowed slightly. "You know, Filius, if I didn't know any better, I would think you have something to do with this, considering the likely charmwork involved."

"Me?!" Flitwick squeaked.

Obviously he had not thought far ahead enough to predict Albus' possible suspicion of him in all of this. Why had he decided to play along and take a position of accomplice with a young child genius? Was there a possible way out of this without pointing any fingers and acting like a pouting dunderhead tripped up in a prank designed by a child? Had the child thought about the possib — wait a minute. Had said child planned this?

Flitwick glanced at Harry, who was now blinking innocently up at Albus, who was looking closely at the mound of candies in the brilliantly decorated glass bowl.

Albus moved his hand and picked up another lemon drop to scrutinize. It turned twinkling red. He quickly picked up another, and another, and another. Lime green, dim silver, pulsing blue, pitch black, bright orange, ugly brown. . . .

The lemon drop evacuation from the bowl paused, Albus picking up a dazzling, sky blue lemon drop to stare at for a long moment. He plopped it in his mouth, and then tilted his head.

"Well?" Flitwick asked, having waited for several seconds for Albus to say something.

"It tastes like a lemon drop," he stated.

"What else is it supposed to taste like, Papa? An everlasting gobstopper?" Harry asked.

"But . . . it's . . . not yellow," Albus said, indignantly, before his tone shifted to one of fascination. "Perhaps the reason most do not like lemon drops and do not take them when I offer one is because of the color. Do you think Minerva would be more willing to partake of a lemon drop if it was reddish gold?"

"Maybe, Papa," Harry said, trying not to turn red with embarrassment upon feeling Albus' affections towards his old head of house.

He was of course happy for Albus, who admitted weeks earlier to him that he and Minerva were now closer than they had been at this time in the original timeline, but, being in a child's body, the 'cootie' belief was still rooted firmly in his mind.

"Filius, I congratulate you on your ample and convincing acting, though I don't understand why you attempted to convince me my delightful collection of lemon drops had been defective. As you know, I place a great deal of protective spells and wards on my bowl and candy stashes, as well as charms to keep them fresh, preventing them from becoming stale. Which reminds me. . . ." Albus turned to Harry. "Could you perhaps make a new rune network that will only create reddish gold lemon drops? I also feel making yellow ginger snaps may help Minerva become accustom to yellow in time. Would that be possible?"

"How did you know?" Harry asked, though he already knew how.

"Harry, your magic is all over them. It actually adds a slight tinge of sharp sweetness, which is why I am hopeful that Minerva will be more receptive to them than original lemon drops. She finds you 'adorably delectable', you know," Albus informed a further blushing Harry.

"I'll make the network when I get the chance, Papa, but do you think they would taste better if I ate more sweets?" Harry asked.

Albus narrowed his eyes slightly. "Just don't make yourself sick."

"I won't, Papa!" Harry piped up, both Dumbledores ignoring Flitwick's stunned expression as they dug in the bowl of color changing lemon drops.

O o O o O

Arthur was at work, and all of the children had been shooed outside, so Molly Weasley sat down to read the Daily Prophet. She snatched a cookie from her secret stash and opened the paper.

_BOY-WHO-LIVED TARGETED BY VAMPIRES_

What sort of drivel was this? This was something that would be better suited for the _Quibbler_, Molly thought. Goodness! Vampire assassins! As if that poor boy didn't have enough on his plate without being targeted! She imagined her little Ronnie being targeted by anyone and shivered.

_Well, I'll be,_ she thought. Harry Dumbledore had once again reflected a killing curse. She clicked her tongue. That boy had been dealt a rough hand. She read further. "Unnamed Ministry officials aided the Dumbledores in the situation, dispatching one of the would-be assassins and chasing another off."

Well, that was brave of them. She wondered if Arthur knew anything about this. He had gone to Moody's party briefly, but had said nothing out of the ordinary to her. It was likely he knew nothing except what was in the paper.

Hmm, security would be increased at the Ministry. Good. Assassins didn't need to be coming in any time they wanted. She wondered if the new measures would affect Arthur, since the paper was rather vague on what would be done.

Finished with the article, she turned to "Madame Whiddley's Cooking Column."

O o O o O

Severus Snape sat at his usual breakfast of toast and oatmeal. Propped against the coffeepot was the Daily Prophet. His usual method of perusing the paper began with the research articles, noting what he'd like to look into more when not studying the Philosopher's Stone. Both Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel had been and continued to be wonderful mentors, urging him to discover the secrets they already knew on his own. He was beginning his research on the Philosopher's Stone, hoping one day to make one of his own. For now, the articles in the Prophet (at least, those about scientific matters) were often helpful.

However, today, something else caught his eye. The front page.

Well, well, young Potter, er, Dumbledore, was in the spotlight once again. An assassination attempt? Interesting. He glanced at his arm. While the mark had not disappeared, it had not activated either. The Dark Lord was not dead, but he was weakened in some way. It was doubtful the assassins were connected, yet . . . his thoughts tumbled over each other as he sorted through his memories of service.

Voldemort had not initially wanted to include any creatures other than humans in his cause. After all, his cause was to eliminate all those not pure-born. Half-bloods could remain in a kind of servitude to the purebloods, but that was all. Other races certainly did not fit in the picture.

However, near the end, the Dark Lord had been considering vampires. After all, they were immortals who used magic. The rules could have been bent for them, perhaps. As far as Severus knew, there had been no agreement made.

And if there had, why wait until now to launch an attack? No, all his instincts were saying there was something else afoot. He reread the article, memorizing the important details, before turning to the research coverage.

Someone else would deal with this. He was no longer involved.

Thank Merlin.

O o O o O

Cornelius Fudge lay in a hospital bed at St. Mungo's. While he relished the attention on him by reporters, aurors, and well-wishers, now that the initial madness was over, he was bored. The healers had told him he would be confined to the bed for another day as his burns healed. The burns covered his left arm and part of his left leg.

The aurors had said he was very fortunate. Usually feindfyre, once it made contact with a living being, consumed them immediately. Luckily, this fyre had been in the control of someone else, and so had simply burned him.

So close to death! It really made one ponder their life.

But now he considered his life sufficiently pondered, and he was bored.

Well, well, a nurse was walking by with a newspaper under her arm. It would be better than nothing, and he could read the article about something he had seen, always a heady experience. He called to her.

The paper now lying on his lunch tray, he read the article. No mention of himself, which was disappointing but understandable. After all, others had been injured and even killed. Vampires! He thought he had heard someone shout about that at the time. He hoped the Vampire Liaison Office would be able to squelch the obvious uprising. After all, they couldn't have magical creatures running around uncontrolled! This was exactly the sort of thing that happened when they were given so much license.

Still thinking about vampires, Cornelius turned to the gossip column. Hmm, looked like one of the Prophet's rising young reporters had gone missing. Scandalous.

He grinned and read the article with relish.

O o O o O

Remus Lupin opened the door to his small flat (apartment, as the yanks called it) and frowned at the state of the main room. Some books he had been reading were piled on the couch, and his dinner plate from the night before was on the TV tray. He shut the door behind him and began straightening the room, picking up something here and something there.

Here in the Americas, there was a werewolf reservation. Those who had been bit, while not required to stay in this apartment complex, were greatly encouraged to do so. During the full moon, some muggle invention called an 'electric fence' kept the werewolves from harming anyone. It was quite effective. Benefits were provided for those too weak to work, and jobs were provided for those who could. There were weekly counseling sessions and group activities, and they helped each other around the moon phases. Really, it was rather satisfying to be a member of a pack of his own kind.

Although he missed his old friends terribly, there was nothing that could bring them back. The one person he would have worried about, Harry, was in the good hands of Albus Dumbledore. When the boy was older, he would love to tell him stories about his parents, but for now, there was nothing he could really do. He began humming to himself as he brushed the crumbs off the table and reached for the Daily Prophet.

He liked to keep tabs on what was happening in England, but with the distance, the Prophet was delivered in the evening rather than in the morning. He opened the paper, ready for the latest in wizard news.

He almost dropped the paper as he read the headline. Harry was in trouble? He let out a little growl as he read who would dare attack his packmate's offspring. Vampires. Those cold, bloodthirsty monsters. The natural enmity his kind held for their kind surfaced. Had he been there he would have. . . . He stifled the animal thoughts going through his mind.

The paper said nothing about Harry other than that he was "fine." What kind of report was that? Remus pulled out a piece of parchment from under a stack of muggle records. He would write immediately. Surely Albus would let him know how his little packmate was truly faring.

He began writing, for once ignoring the Prophet's articles on various 'Creature Sightings.'

O o O o O

Curt Bishop picked up the paper from the coffee table in the office lounge. The others had hogged it all morning, and he wanted to read it. First he scanned the front page, shaking his head. A routine warning turned into such a fiasco.

Colin walked by, tunelessly humming, twirling something.

"You guys have all the fun," Curt said.

"Wha-at?" Colin drawled in confusion.

Curt pointed to the front page.

"Oh, yeah, you should have been there," Colin said with a slow smile.

"I would have been, but no one ever tells me anything," Curt said in despair. That wasn't entirely true. He knew everything... after the fact.

Colin shrugged and went back to twirling, was that a sword? Who in their right mind had given him a pointy object?

"Is that a sword?" Curt asked, never one for subtleties, despite his Slytherin upbringing.

Colin nodded, "Mmm-hmm. It's a late 1800's model, but it's been modified for magical purposes, specifically with an affinity for fire."

"So it's yours?" Curt questioned.

Colin smiled. "It is now, and I have its twin in my office."

Wait, those looked familiar. . . .

"Heeeeeey," Curt said as he suddenly recalled where he'd seen them. "That's one of the swords the assassin used."

"Yeeeee-up," Colin answered. "Cool, huh?"

"How did you get it?" Curt questioned.

Colin shrugged. "Well, there were some people, then some things happened, and voila!" He swung the sword up in a passionate gesture.

Curt shook his head. "What are you going to do with it?" he questioned.

"Hopefully move toward getting the horcrux out of our favorite subject," Colin said, once again spinning the sword.

"Good, we need to get a move on that," Curt said.

"Well, I've got projects coming out of my ear, so talk to you later," Colin said with a salute. He resumed his humming as he walked into his office.

Curt shook his head as he turned the paper to what he was really interested in, the Quidditch ratings.

O o O o O

Xenophilius Lovegood opted to skip the Prophet in favor of some real news, namely the Quibbler's article on heliopaths (magical fire beasts) invading the Ministry.

Hmm, he wondered how Albus Dumbledore and little Harry had managed to quench them. Perhaps they hummed a lullaby? It stopped three headed dogs, after all, and music does have its own magical use.

Xenophilius shrugged, glancing at Luna who was playing with blocks at his feet. He smiled. The way Luna hummed, she would have no trouble against such creatures, but just to make sure . . . .

"Luna, what sort of song would you hum if you had to snuff out a heliopath?"

O o O o O

* * *

A/N: I know, this part took us forever. Sorry, life got really busy, but know we have the plot outlined and will continue writing and posting whenever we can.


	16. Invitations

Disclaimer: Really? We don't own this? Are you sure? Darn, must have been a dream then.

**Questions Concerning: **

_Questions_: From what we could tell, all the questions asked will be answered in due time....

* * *

**Part 16: Invitations**

Narcissa Malfoy drew the gold locket up to her neck.

When she had found out that a few of the things left to her in the wills of some select family members were horcruxes belonging to the Dark Lord, she had almost destroyed them. However indirectly, the man was not only responsible for the deaths of many she felt close to, but also for the new, unfavorable political changes. People in high places had been investigated for ties to the Dark Lord, and bribes were no longer the currency of the Ministry. She herself had been investigated, and only by pleading innocence to her husband's activities was she able to live her life without harassment.

She had set the horcruxes aside, however, until she could look more objectively at the situation. Along with the locket, two other artifacts had been passed to her that originated from the Dark Lord: a cup and a diary. The diary was in the basement, since her dearly departed husband had seen it fit to keep it there. The cup was currently in a Gringott's vault under a pseudonym. A copy of the cup was in her vault to throw off anyone who might know what they were looking for.

After a house elf briefly misplaced the locket while dusting (he was punished severely) she felt that it would be safer on her person. It had only been within the last year that she had started wearing it, tucked under her robes so as not to be recognized.

Her reasoning behind keeping the horcruxes was a matter of leverage. She had powerful artifacts that might help in her quest to make Draco's life safer. She was still studying the properties of the horcruxes, and had so far discovered that they had powerful protection spells and wards on them in order to protect the soul fragment inside. Currently, she was trying to duplicate some of the spells on objects that were not horcruxes, with varying degrees of success.

As for the problems with the Ministry, if she could find a way to enter back into that world of politics, she could regain the power the Malfoy name had lost with the death of the Dark Lord. Draco would have a better chance to make something of himself, and in the process, redeem the Malfoy name, returning it to its rightful position.

Her train of thought was halted when a house elf knocked on her door.

"What is it?" she questioned harshly as she finished putting up her hair.

"A firecall, Mistress," the elf answered. "A Malfoy name."

"I'll answer in a moment," Narcissa said as she turned from side to side, looking her face over in the mirror.

"Yes, Mistress," the elf said. She backed out of the room.

Narcissa checked her reflection one last time and walked to the receiving room. "Ah, Anna, it's a pleasure to see you." She did not have to lie. Lucius' cousin, Anna, was kind and forthright, a rare thing in her family. "Hello, Narcissa," Anna said. "I was just checking on you before I go to work. How are things?"

Had anyone else asked, Narcissa would have been annoyed at their assumption that it was any of their business. "Things are going well," she answered with a smile. "Draco is already reading, and he is growing so quickly. Why the sudden interest?"

"Well, did you read about what happened at the Ministry?" Anna questioned.

"Yes, I did," Narcissa answered. "The Ministry has weakened drastically if such a thing could happen within its walls." To be perfectly honest, she wasn't that surprised that someone was after the Dumbledores with all they had done.

"Well, it made me think of Draco, since he and Harry are the same age, more or less," Anna clarified. "And I wondered if perhaps you knew who could be behind such a deed."

Narcissa was immediately on guard. This line of questioning she had not anticipated. Why would Anna want to know anyway? And why did she think Narcissa knew? "W-why would I know such a thing?"

Anna frowned. "I just thought that maybe you heard something, as you are more in touch with the family than I am. You know I'm always the last to know." This was true. "I was just curious and thought I'd ask. Plus it gave me a reason to ask about you and Draco."

Ah, it was just Anna's mind randomly picking some piece of knowledge to find. This happened occasionally, and Anna would not be satisfied until she knew the answer. This made Narcissa feel a bit better about the questions, and she took a relieved breath. "I'm sorry, but I haven't heard anything,"

"Oh," Anna said, and now her frown was more of a puzzled look. "Well, I'm sorry to bother you, then."

"Not at all," Narcissa said.

"We really should catch up on everything, though," Anna suddenly seemed happier, her puzzled look fading. "Why don't you come over for dinner sometime this week? You haven't been to my new house yet."

Narcissa thought it over. She wanted to go. Bragging on Draco was always an acceptable pastime. "Of course," she answered. "Would Thursday be alright?"

"Thursday it is," Anna answered. "See you then."

After a few more pleasantries, Anna left for work, and Narcissa went to wake Draco up and really start the day.

O o O o O

Harry took Dumbledore's hand as they made their way to the RDHPIT facility. Of course, he was well acquainted with it now, as he had undergone many tests there over the years. He was looking forward to the day, and was especially curious about what they would be covering considering recent events.

Over the past month (before the attack at the Ministry), they had started having him move and 'shift' his magic. Primarily, it was Jess who worked with him on it. She started by teaching him how to call magic to and away from his hands, before moving on to his feet, chest, and finally, his head. They didn't say why, of course, but he had figured it out, even before Dumbledore had told him why they were doing this. It was in preparation to the removal of the horcrux. They still hadn't discussed the horcrux with him, understandably assuming he was too young to understand and that it would only frighten him.

Being told you have a chunk of a psychopath's soul inside your forehead and that this same loony-bin could come back by using his unplanned 'gift' to you is sure to cause most anyone major issues.

While he understood their position and was even touched by their thoughtfulness, it was bothersome and rather annoying. He had had to stop himself, several times, from mentioning the problem with his scar or pointblank asking them if they had come up with any ways of safely removing it. However, it had been his decision to not let them know he knew. It was only logical. What sort of guardian would let their heir know something like this at his current age? If they learned Dumbledore had told him, that might bring Dumbledore's child rearing abilities into question, and they couldn't have that. No matter how mature Harry was, he, regrettably, had to, at least moderately, play child.

Part of him, of course, was a child, but a large part of him, for lack of more fancy words, was not. He was almost thirty, after all, had collected an amount of knowledge Madame Ravenclaw herself would respect, knew how to duel with/against the best (and most evil) of them, and fully understood how frail life was.

Harry shook his head.

"Alright there, Harry?" Albus asked, feeling his churning emotions.

"Just thinking," he answered as they came to the RDHPIT door and opened it.

"And here, within the majestic center of RDHPIT, enter the Dumbledores in all of their magnificence and mightiness!" David proclaimed, sitting on the couch with a donut in his hand.

"Hi, David!" Harry chirped.

David smiled, turning to the side table to take hold of the donut box. "Would either of you want one?"

"Is there one with sprinkles?" Albus asked. "I'm partial to those."

"I never would have guessed," David said, sounding completely honest and intrigued before becoming businesslike. "Most of the others are already in the Pit. We have a great deal to discuss and do today."

"What are we going to discuss?" Harry asked, innocently.

"I'm not sure exactly, though I'm sure it'll cover what happened at the Ministry."

Harry's shoulders slumped. "Oh."

"It's not every day that someone has the guts to outright attack your papa, not to mention yourself, like that, and in the middle of a large event at the Ministry with aurors all about. Surely you understand that what happened deserves our attention?" David asked.

"Yeah, but surely you'd be tired of hearing everyone talk about it if it were you?"

"I suppose, but aren't you a little curious about why and how things happened the way they did?" David asked, glancing ever so slightly at Harry's right hand.

Harry noticed, but didn't make any motion to show that he had, except regain eye contact with David.

Harry shrugged. "Sometimes it is best to just accept certain events or occurrences and ask no questions."

"Why?"

Harry tilted his head, as if in wonderment at such a question.

"Seeking truth is a good thing, but bogging yourself down with the hunt of it all the time can distract you," Harry said, a stray thought going to Albus in the original timeline.

What would have been different if Albus, during Harry's later student years, had focused on the there and then instead of what would or might be? How much more would Harry and his peers have learned and understood? Rather than devoting so much time and effort to saving the future, would Albus have improved the future and prevented it from needing to be saved if he had focused his full attention to the present instead?

Would they be here now? Or would Harry be a man with a family, instead of a man trapped in a child's body?

But if he had been Albus, would he have acted any differently? The only reason the present was what it was now was because of their careful planning, but the big difference now was the fact they were acting in and for the present, being mindful of the future but not dwelling on it.

If they dwelled on the possible future, the future they had escaped from, they would not be able to function.

In the end, Harry realized one particular thing. The future didn't matter, because it hadn't come and was forever changing. What did matter was the present, for without the present, what good was the future? Without a purposeful now, how could a fulfilling future develop?

Harry didn't know why his thoughts had strayed so far, or why he was suddenly feeling this way, all philosophical and what-have-you. Perhaps it was the subtle looks he and Albus had received that evening from the professors, or maybe, just maybe, he wanted a break. A break from the stares, whispers, sympathetic glances, and awe-filled looks. A break from the attention, concern and organized chaos.

He wanted peace, however little or minute it was. Just a moment of peace.

"Harry?" Albus asked, giving his hand a comforting, though slightly worried, squeeze.

Evidently he had paused for a bit too long after his reply. He continued, deciding there was no reason not to share some 'child wisdom'.

"What goes on here is important, but know there's more to understanding than just the comprehension of why and how. It's the comprehension of your purpose," Harry said, not bothering to hide his vocabulary or grammar.

The Unspeakables were used to his bursts of long words and sentences anyway.

"Purpose?"

"You can't have much of a future without one, or rather, you can't have much of one without discovering or deciding what your purpose is and doing something about it in time."

"Interesting," a voice said. It was Jess, who had just recently come out of her office. "I'm curious, Harry. Have you discovered or decided your purpose?"

Before he could stop himself, he answered. "Yes."

That obviously caught David and Jess by surprise. They glanced at each other, both of their thoughts going to the prophesy as well as their theory of Harry being magic incarnate.

"Oh?" David asked, hoping his nonchalant curiosity would coax something more out of Harry.

Harry's posture shifted, as if he was internally stepping back, before he met David's eyes. "Do you think the Wizarding World will ever see me as just Harry?"

"—Eh…" David managed, before managing to cover up his momentary start. "Well, I suppose it'll depend on a few things, despite how unfair that is."

Harry's shoulders slouched just enough to convey acceptance. "I thought that's what you'd say, but I suppose people will always look at me differently, no matter what. I haven't exactly been normal and probably never will be."

"Harry, you're more than 'the Next Merlin' or whatever title the public gives you," David said simply. "Besides, the world won't always be the way it is now. Things change."

Harry nodded, almost to himself. "It also takes time for people to accept change, understand variety, and grow accustomed to a new branch of thought," he said, his voice growing quiet. "But that's why we're here. The world will not spiral into darkness, but rise — instilled with a renewed sense of purpose."

"Hey, what's taking you guys so long?" Seth asked, just now entering the room before suddenly pausing at the odd silence. "Ooh…kay. Everything good?"

"Yup, we were just on our way," Jess said, deciding it best to just end the conversation right there.

Jess was certain after this session of testing and discussion she and her team would be having a very long, in depth, conversation. There were clues dropping all over the place, or rather, more and more things that possibly verified some of their theories, one in particular.

The thing now was, what to do about it.

O o O o O

Miss Rita Skeeter, former employee of the Daily Prophet, had had a rough week. She had been prisoner in an unidentified place, force-fed Veritaserum, stressed, strained, and put through every conceivable magical test. (As well as many inconceivable ones.)

It was all worth it, though. Rita Skeeter was now a member of the most highly secretive group in the Wizarding World. The Unspeakables.

Of course, at first she hadn't known that she was still in the Ministry. The last thing she had remembered was observing the super-secret meeting of the Ministry Department Heads about the attack on the Dumbledores.

However, it made sense for her to be in the Ministry, especially since she was caught in her animagus form. While useful for observation, her beetle was not much of a fighter if things went awry. So she had sat in a cell, without even a pen and parchment to pass the time. When someone had finally come to her, they had given her Veritaserum and asked her questions she didn't now remember. They must have been satisfied with her answers, however, because the next question she did remember was one asking if she wanted to become a _real _contributing member of society.

Sensing a story, she agreed, and the next week had been one of grueling tests. She had passed, though, and by the end was excited to be a part of what seemed like a secret club. She no longer cared about exposing them to the Prophet. She was one of them.

Now, a day into her new profession as seeker of truth, she was told she should keep her job with the Prophet so that she could keep the press from releasing gross overstatements when they saw a tiny piece of what the Unspeakables actually did.

It was a complete reversal of her former job description, which was to make those gross overstatements.

Having only been there for a day, she had met the rest of her group, but didn't really know them. After all, she had just graduated from Hogwarts a few years ago, and they were much older. It was a bit intimidating, but she wouldn't let that stop her. She had been a Slytherin, after all.

Today, they were testing a very important individual, one she had been wanting to do a story on for years. Harry Dumbledore. Apparently, he had been coming to the Unspeakables for some time, specifically, her branch, RDHPIT.

Sitting in the conference room with her coworkers, she watched as the two most famous wizards of her time entered. She would not be in charge of any testing or questioning, but she would watch. She tried not to show her enthusiasm, not wanting to appear like an eager child to these formidable people. A transcription quill hovered just above a piece of parchment, ready to take down word for word the discussion that would soon occur.

"Hello, Albus, Harry," the redhead, Colin, said. "How's Hogwarts?"

Rita peeked at her parchment to make sure the charms she had placed on her quill were working. Yes, they were not only copying the speech perfectly, but were copying it like a script. Good, she would be able to recall later who said what. For now, she would be able to get impressions of all involved rather than have to pay attention to every word spoken.

"Hogwarts is fine," Harry answered. "But she's not happy with what happened."

"Well, neither are we," another colleague, Anna, said.

Anna was sitting at the opposite end of the table from Rita, and had seemingly avoided her all day. Rita wasn't sure whether she should ask her boss about it or wait to see what happened. "I mean, we're happy that you're all right, but not with the other stuff," Anna added with a frown. Rita allowed herself a smile at the woman's slip up.

Then Harry glanced in Rita's direction. For a moment, Rita thought his eyes were blazing with anger, then he calmed himself. "Who are you?" he asked. Somehow, she got the impression he knew exactly who she was.

"My name is Rita, Rita Skeeter," Rita answered.

"I was just about to introduce you," her boss, Jess said. "Rita's the newest member of our group. Actually, Albus, you were the one who recruited her." Jess seemed like a good person, just a bit detached occasionally from what was going on around her. It was like she saw the world in a completely different way than everyone else.

Albus looked at her and gave a slight nod. He didn't seem to be happy to see her either. "Yes, I do seem to remember something of the sort," he said.

"I'm delighted to meet you," Rita said. She did not have to fake that delight, either. Although, she wondered what she had done to put the Dumbledores on edge. Maybe they thought she was here to do a story on them for the Prophet.

"She's signed all of the same agreements we have," David said. David always knew what to do or say and when. "Anything given to the Prophet will first be approved by you and Jess."

"Well, that sets me somewhat at ease," Albus said as he sat in one of the empty chairs near the center of the long table. He relaxed a bit. "I am glad to see you putting your skills to good use, Rita."

"Why thank you, Headmaster," Rita said. She hadn't forgotten the speech he had given her at the end of her seventh year. He had told her that she had a nose for a good story, and that she shouldn't spoil it by digging up lies. The truth was better, and often more interesting. "I look forward to working with both of you."

"Now that introductions have been made," Jess, said, "we were hoping to talk to you and Albus about the attack."

"Okay," Harry answered as he took the chair next to the Headmaster. He seemed hesitant, like he didn't want to talk about what happened. Perhaps he just didn't want to talk in front of someone he didn't know. Rita smelled a story here, something perhaps not covered by the Prophet. Was Harry a _reluctant_ hero? She would know soon.

"First of all," Jess began, "I want to tell you I was quite pleased with how well you handled yourself, Harry. You reacted better than most aurors, actually. It's clear you've learned how to center yourself despite what's around and within you."

Harry smiled. "You taught me that."

Jess waved her hand dismissively. "You already knew it. It was simply a matter of applying it to your chaotic magic."

Rita remembered reading what she had been given about the child, and how he could utilize that rare form of magic. It was beyond remarkable.

"Now, I'm going to ask you to describe what you felt just before you brought up that wall," Jess said.

Harry thought for a moment. "I felt like something bad was there. My magic knew what to do. I just had to let it." Rita was impressed. He was very articulate for a soon to be five year old.

"What do you mean your magic knew what to do?" Seth asked. Seth was an okay guy, for a Gryffindor.

"Don't you ever listen to Jess?" Harry asked.

"Uhhh," Seth said.

"Most wizards teach that you are supposed to control your magic, but really, you're supposed to channel it," Harry responded. "We can't let it completely rule us, but we have to let it guide."

Rita had never heard that before. The professors at Hogwarts had taught her that you had to control your magic, not the other way around. However, maybe this was specific to chaotic magic.

"Well then, I think Curt had some questions," Jess said as she leaned back in her chair, the smile of a teacher overlooking her star pupil on her face. Albus' had a similar expression.

"Yeah, actually, my question is for you, Albus," Curt said. This meeting was the first time Rita had seen Curt other than her initial introduction. He seemed very easy-going, especially for a Slytherin. "I wanted to know more about the spell you cast on the vampire that was controlling the fiendfyre. That was holy water, right?"

"Yes, it was," Albus answered. "Created from the juice I vanished from the party cups." Rita noticed he'd dropped the 'mysteriously eccentric grandfather' persona he normally had up. Here, he was forthright with his answers, not cryptic like she remembered from school.

"It takes a priest to bless holy water," Colin said knowledgably. "How did you just make it out of juice?" Rita wouldn't have questioned it. After all, this was the great Albus Dumbledore. Colin did have a point, though.

"Well, now, you pose an interesting question," Albus said. His eyes began to twinkle. There was the persona Rita remembered. What came next would most likely be cryptic and less than helpful. "I will simply say that I have travelled to many interesting places, met several fascinating people, and learned much that is hidden." Yes, it was as she thought. Exasperating old man.

As she glanced around the table, however, the faces of the others showed anticipation and determination rather than exasperation. They looked as if a puzzle had been given to them to solve. Rita felt like she'd been given a piece to a puzzle, but didn't even know what the picture was supposed to be.

"What kind of people?" David asked.

"Well, for instance," Albus answered, his twinkle still apparent, "I once met a charming young mage priest while searching for information. Apparently, in Ireland, vampires are more of a problem than they are here."

Everyone glanced at Colin, who nodded in confirmation. "Speaking of vampires, did you get a chance to see this?" he asked. He pulled a sword from a scabbard Rita had seen him wearing earlier and put it on the table.

"Is that one of the swords from the attack?" Harry asked as he moved to his knees in order to see better.

"Actually, it's both of them," Colin answered. "They pull apart."

"Where did you get this?" Albus asked as he adjusted his glasses.

"It was given to us to study," Jess answered. "I assigned it to Colin since he knows the most about fiendfyre."

"Is it safe to touch?" Albus asked.

Colin nodded. "As long as you're not trying to cast anything involving fire."

Albus picked it up, testing the balance then focusing on the hilt. He ran his finger over a small, red gem. "This doesn't seem to be a ruby," he commented. "It looks almost like a philosopher's stone."

"Well, it's kind of like that," Colin said. "It works on the same principle, except that it enhances the wielder's magic instead of life."

"This explains why the vampires were able to cast spells," Albus said as he set the sword down.

"Wouldn't the caster already have to have an affinity for fire spells in order for that to work?" Harry asked. Again, Rita was impressed.

"For this particular sword, yes," Colin answered, seemingly unperturbed by Harry's vocabulary and knowledge of magic.

"As for fire spells," Albus said after a short silence, "that was some display you gave, Colin. I have never seen fiendfyre so controlled."

"Thank you," Colin responded.

"I am curious as to where you learned to control fiendfyre that way," Albus said.

"It's a gift," Colin answered. Rita was surprised at the succinctness of his answer. From what she had noticed, he tended to expound on any answer that he was made to give.

"How do you mean?" Albus asked.

"I don't remember much of it," Colin answered, "but when I was very young, most of my accidental magic had to do with fire. My parents are catholic muggles, so they took me to a priest, who attempted to exorcise what he believed to be a demon. Rather than going away, my connection with fire grew, and even became purer. Finally, my parents and our priest decided it must be God giving me a gift with the devil's element, so that I could better fight him and his minions."

Rita noticed the shocked and/or confused looks he got from the rest of the table. She herself did not know what 'exorcise' or 'catholic' were, since she was a pureblood and knew very little of muggle ways.

"So anyway, like I said, it's a gift," Colin reiterated.

"I see." Albus looked intrigued. "We will have to speak at a later date about this."

"Does anyone else have questions?" Jess asked.

"Actually, I wanted to ask your opinion on the vampires that attacked you," Seth said. "Do you think they were rogue or representatives of the nation?"

Albus thought for a moment before answering. "I don't believe they represented the nation as a whole, but I also doubt that they were operating completely by themselves."

"Those were our thoughts as well," Anna said. "I asked a contact if they knew who might be working with vampires, and she said she didn't. I think she may have known more than she was saying, though." She frowned, as if it wasn't often that she couldn't tell exactly what someone knew. Rita wondered who her contact was.

"Do you have any idea who they might be allied with, if anyone?" Curt asked.

"I have thought about this quite a bit since the attack," Albus answered, "but I don't know why vampires would agree to attack me. I have nothing to do with the legislature binding them, nor have I ever come into contact with their nation. I do know that Voldemort was not officially allied with them, so I doubt it is because of his defeat that they attacked."

"Well, I've done some work with the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," Curt said. "Mostly mapping out the areas where the creatures are allowed to live. I did some work with, well, I suppose you'd call him the head vampire; he was well respected. Through that work, I noticed that while the vampires don't love the ministry and wizards, they don't hate them either. To be perfectly honest, they see us as mostly beneath their notice. Any vampires who would directly attack a specific wizard are either young enough to still hold grudges against those they knew before turning, or are young and looking for the thrills that immortality can bring. Either way, we probably aren't looking at experienced vampires."

Everyone at the table, including young Harry, nodded in agreement. After a short silence, Jess again asked if anyone had more questions. When no one responded, she offered to take Harry to the testing room, the Pit. Harry nodded and followed her, having obviously done this many times before. Albus and the rest went to a large observation room.

"So, Albus," Colin began once everyone had sat in front of the window to watch, "I was wondering if you had thought anymore about removing Harry's horcrux." Rita remembered reading the notes on Harry's horcrux, but still wasn't sure exactly what it was, other than bad. She listened intently, her quill and parchment once again ready to take notes.

"Yes," Albus answered slowly, "but nothing has come to mind."

"Well, I now have a sword that controls fire," Colin said. "Perhaps you would reconsider one of our earlier proposals to burn out the horcrux. If it would help any, I could demonstrate my control on a test subject."

O o O

Albus couldn't help but flinch slightly as the bond was suddenly cut off. He looked to the window to see Jess leading Harry into the pit and thought about what Colin had asked. He was not only taken aback by Colin's bluntness, but also by what he was proposing. To willingly bring Harry into contact with fiendfyre reeked of madness, but what if it was the only way?

However, Colin had offered a demonstration. "What kind of demonstration?"

"Well, I could cast the fire and control it even with another person in the room," Colin answered. "I'm sure pretty much anyone here would agree to demonstrate."

"Let me think on it," Albus said. He wanted to see the demonstration, but didn't want to put anyone else in danger. Looking back to the pit, he saw Jess examining Harry's hand. They were talking quietly, and he couldn't hear them, but both seemed happy enough. In fact, Jess was already walking Harry back out of the room.

O o O

Harry was happy that Jess had examined his hand. It wasn't that he distrusted the healers at St. Mungo's or Madame Pomfrey, but he knew Jess was better suited to see if anything was magically wrong with his hand. She told him that although he still had traces of the AK that had been shot at him, it wasn't harming him or his magic. In fact, the chaotic magic seemed to be breaking it down into simpler magic components, storing the nasty stuff, perhaps for expulsion later, and absorbing the raw power.

As she held his right hand, he could feel all sorts of magical information about Jess pass to him. He felt the chaos of her magic, and the power that throbbed behind it. If he didn't know she was a good person dedicated to the light, it would have scared him. Even so, it was intimidating. He could feel a touch of Don's magic as well, since they were married. Their magic combined and complimented each other. Then, much like when he had touched Mr. Longbottom, he saw a glimpse of an animal. It wasn't one he recognized off hand, although it was possibly some type of gryphon. Whatever it was, it prompted him to ask, "When can I learn to be an animagus like you?"

Becoming an animagus would have been a great tool to have during the war, but by the time he saw what good it would do, he was too busy and didn't have the right materials. The ritual itself took almost ten hours of uninterrupted time and two complex potions. He didn't want to miss out this time around.

"Well, we'll have to wait a few years for that," Jess answered as she stood to lead him out of the Pit. "It's best to wait until the body stops growing, or at least not as quickly. Otherwise the ritual you would have to perform might stunt your growth, which isn't good."

Harry agreed, although he wished he could start now. "Can you come to my birthday party?" he asked, while he was thinking of growth. "Actually, it's mine and Neville's."

"Who's Neville?" Jess asked.

"My best friend," Harry answered. "Well, and Luna."

"I'd love to come," Jess answered. "Is it on your birthday?"

"No, it's the day before, since that's a Saturday."

"I'll be there," Jess said.

"Everyone else is invited, too," Harry added. He really didn't want Rita there, though. Even if she hadn't yet done anything to him in this timeline, he didn't know her at all. He could probably get away with playing kid here. "I don't know Rita, though."

"You don't want to invite her?" Jess asked.

"Not really," Harry answered. He managed to look bashful, as if the fact embarrassed him.

"All right, I'll let everyone else know, then," Jess said, "unless you wanted to invite them yourself."

"Kind of," Harry answered. He had a sudden thought. "Maybe you could ask Rita to talk to you outside and I could ask then?"

"Sure, there's something I need to talk to her about anyway," Jess answered with a shrug. Harry was surprised she agreed so easily, but was glad she did. They had now reached the door to the observation room. Jess opened the door. "Rita, I need to ask you something, can you come outside, please?"

"Sure," Rita responded, looking surprised. "It was a pleasure to meet both of you." She smiled and directed the comment at Harry and Albus. She picked up her quill and parchment and followed Jess out.

"So what did you want to ask us?" David asked.

Harry smiled. He hadn't yet told Albus what he was going to do. "I wanted to invite all of you to my birthday party on July 30th." Albus raised his brows with surprise, but his eyes were twinkling.

Harry got a chorus of affirmatives as his answer. His smile widened. He was happy to finally be able to see these people outside his tests.

"I'd like to ask you something, Albus," Anna said.

"Alone, I assume?" Albus answered as he took a step toward her, his eyes still twinkling.

"Yes," Anna said as she held the door open. "To my office?"

O o O

Albus followed Anna as she opened her office door with her wand. He had never been in anyone's office, and was quite curious as to what one looked like. His first impression was a very clean, almost bare office. She had one framed picture on her desk, but it was turned away from the door, so he couldn't see who it was. A curtain was hiding the back half of the office, just behind the desk chair, and it wasn't quite closed. Through the crack, he caught a glimpse of a giant stack of books and an overflowing wastebasket and smiled. One could tell so much about a person by their office.

"What did you want to ask me?" Albus asked.

Anna seemed hesitant to start. She reached up and pinched the bridge of her nose and leaned against her desk.

"Headache?" Albus asked. He had never seen her look so tired.

Anna nodded. "We've got a new coworker, as you saw, and right now, she's not an occlumens. It hurts to be too near her."

Albus was immediately alarmed. "So at any moment, she could unknowingly share secrets with any legilimens?"

"She has a pendant she wears outside of work," Anna answered, "and she's learning, but right now, it hurts. I'm sure she thinks I'm avoiding her because I don't like her or something, which isn't true."

Albus hadn't seen her look so vulnerable since her Hogwarts days. "Did you want me to do something?" he asked, wondering how he could help.

Anna waved her hand dismissively. "No, that's not what I wanted to talk about. Actually, I was hoping to ask you a favor, since Harry invited us to his birthday."

"What is it?" Albus asked.

"I have a cousin, second cousin, actually, who is Harry's age. He doesn't get to interact much with other kids, and I think it'd be good for him to meet some more people his own age."

"And you want to bring him to Harry's birthday?" Albus had a feeling he knew who she was talking about.

"If that would be acceptable," Anna answered. "His name is Draco Malfoy."

Albus took a moment to think. Draco had lost his father this time around, and while Narcissa hadn't exactly been a good influence, it was likely she had changed. In fact, Albus knew that Narcissa donated money to some very worthwhile causes, and actually stayed out of politics, at least publicly. It seemed she was trying to erase the blot on the Malfoy name. "Before I agree, what kind of child is he?"

"Well," Anna began, "he's a very obedient child. He's smart and picks up quite a bit more than the average child from adult conversation. The problem as I see it, however, is that he is mostly around his mother and a few adult family members. I'll admit that my cousin-in-law Narcissa is somewhat timid when it comes to letting him be a normal kid. She's very protective of him."

Albus nodded. "If Narcissa agrees, then I would be happy to add more guests to the list." Maybe he would have a chance to head off Draco's actions this time around. In the former timeline, he had become a Death Eater as soon as he had come of age. If even one less person were around to fight alongside Voldemort this time around, then traveling back was worth it.

"Good, I will talk to Narcissa and let you know," Anna answered. She straightened away from the desk and added, "By the way, when do you want that demonstration?"

O o O o O

"I have a proposition," Anna said. She had floo-called Narcissa in order to ask about Draco's participation in Harry's party.

"What is that?" Narcissa seemed amused.

"I was talking to Albus Dumbledore at work today, and he invited Draco to his son's birthday party," Anna answered. It wasn't the whole truth, but it was close enough. Narcissa was more likely to agree if she thought the invitation came straight from Albus.

Narcissa raised one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows. "How did this come about?"

"Well, my boss is working on some top secret project with him, and I have had the chance to watch Harry on several occasions. He invited me to his party, and Albus knew about Draco, so he invited him as well." It was true, Anna could sense that Albus knew she was talking about Draco even before she mentioned his name. Even considering his prodigious memory, it was a bit unusual. Perhaps he had done some research on who would be entering Hogwarts with Harry? "I think this would be a good opportunity for both boys, as it could mean that Draco is already friendly with house Dumbledore when school begins," she added.

Narcissa leaned back and thought for a moment. "I'd like to see the blot over house Malfoy erased," Narcissa said contemplatively. There seemed to be more, and Anna knew that Narcissa had a mind for politics. To be truthful, even though her ability could make for a perfect politician, it wasn't Anna's thing. People just didn't make sense a lot of the time, and often, the best thing to do was smile and nod. "On behalf of Draco, I accept." She smiled. "I will write a formal response at once and ask for details."

Anna nodded, relieved. It would be good for Draco to be introduced to a different sort of people, the type of people who thought fun was something to be had for all, and regularly engaged in it.

O o O o O

Dumbledore eased himself into his chair. He had just tucked Harry in for bed, after an in depth reading of Dragon Rangers and Their Friends (a gift from Hagrid the previous year).

Their time at the Unspeakables had been more productive than other sessions, and that was saying a lot. He hoped their curious glances were a good thing, rather than something ominous to come. He and Harry had discussed whether or not they should tell them the truth about having time traveled, but every time they did, they decided against it.

What did it matter now? If they hadn't figured it out by now, they probably never would, and if they did, oh well. It's not like they could prove it or force him or Harry to reveal the truth, even with Veritaserum. They were both master legilimens.

They could lie about whatever they wished if they wanted to.

Albus looked down at his desk, wondering what things had been mailed to him now. Granted, they now went through an intensive inspection — provided by the house elves of Hogwarts, so he didn't need to worry about that part of the mailing service, but still . . . no earthly being was perfect. . . .

He checked each and every one just in case while hoping no house elf would take offense.

Coming to the last letter and ensuring it was safe, he read who it was from.

**_Remus Lupin_**

"Ah, I had wondered when we would hear from you again," Albus whispered as he opened the muddied envelope.

Taking out the yellowed page, Albus unfolded it and read.

**Dear Headmaster,**

I just received the Daily Prophet. How is Harry? How are you? Are you both alright? And what did the article mean Harry 'blocked another killing curse'?! Did he?! Are you both safe? If you feel Harry would be safer in an unknown location, my door is open. America is a long way away, after all. Or do you need me to return? Tell me what to do. I would be more than willing to act as a form of security, if not full bodyguard for my best friend's son. I cannot stand the thought of another attacker, let alone a vampire, getting anywhere near him again.

Please contact me as soon as you can.

Sincerely,

**Remus Lupin**

Albus put the paper down and glanced to Fawkes. "Well, my friend, would you be up to delivering a message for me in America?"

He got a pleased and eager trill for his answer, prompting him to summon a quill and some parchment. With a smile, he nodded to himself and began writing.

It was time to gather allies. Old and new.

* * *

A/N: Well, there it is....


	17. Gatherings

Disclaimer: Really? We don't own this? Are you sure? Darn, must have been a dream then.

**Questions Concerning: **

_Dakota, the Unspeakable_: Sometimes in life people just go with no real reason.

* * *

**Part 17: Gatherings**

David looked around the old castle's trophy room in approval. Hogwarts hadn't changed much since he'd last been there, except the children in the awards photographs all looked much younger than he remembered. He pufshed his glasses up his nose and continued to Headmaster Dumbledore's office. His assignment was to check Hogwarts' security before the kids returned from summer break. So far, there had been no more attempts on the Dumbledores' lives, but everyone involved agreed it was better to be safe.

He suddenly felt the urge to stop in the hallway. By now, David knew when his addiction was telling him something. A door opened just in front of him. Had he still been walking, he would have been hit by it. Felix felicis came through again. He smiled. Occurrences like this were common to him, but he still felt that surge of superiority and headiness whenever he noticed one.

"Oh, I'm sorry," an unknown wizard said as he noticed David standing just beyond the door.

"Eh, you didn't hit me," David said with a shrug. "Wait, Michael Bear, right? The new DADA professor?"

"Yes, and you are?"

"David Scott, friend of the Dumbledores," David answered.

"Right, well, I'll escort you to his office, then," Professor Bear said as he gestured in front of him. David took the position, knowing the professor would want to keep an eye on him. He was glad to note that at least one person was mindful of the situation.

They finally reached Albus' office, and Albus called them in before they even had a chance to knock. "Ah, Michael, thank you for showing young Scott the way." His eyes twinkled as they did when he was pleased or amused, or just felt like it.

"Oh, no problem," Michael said, and he was now smiling. "I just didn't want him to get lost on the way."

"David!" Harry shouted happily as he drew at his desk. From what David could tell, it was a very well drawn picture of Professor McGonagall. He smiled as he saw Harry draw her shaking her index finger at something, then began drawing someone with purple robes. Albus, he presumed.

"Well, I guess I'll be going," Michael said. "I've got a few things to see to."

"Bye, Michael!" Harry said as Michael left. David could tell the kid was excited. It made sense as he had been stuck in the castle for the entire summer. "Papa wants me to show you everything," Harry explained, setting down the purple crayon and turning over the paper.

"Ah, yes, Harry has been looking forward to this since he found out you were coming," Albus said with a smile. Harry crinkled his nose, and Albus laughed. It seemed some sort of inside joke was being referenced, but David, being an outsider, did not know what. "I was hoping to escort you myself, but an emergency meeting has been called concerning the state of the Quidditch pitch, and I find myself unavailable. Harry knows where everything is, however."

"All right," David answered as Harry stood. "What are we seeing first?"

"The astronomy tower, because it's the tallest," Harry answered. "Then the Gryffindor tower, the Ravenclaw tower, and the rest, ending with the dungeons. Then we'll go out to the grounds."

A very intelligent response. If David had not seen it time and time again, he would have been surprised at the logic behind Harry's directions. As it was, he was still impressed that a soon to be six year old came up with such a plan. "Sounds good," he replied.

"Well, I'll leave you two to it, then," Albus said as he rose from his desk. "Have fun!"'

As David and Harry walked to the astronomy tower, David had the absurd urge to skip down the hall. He never fought urges, and soon Harry was running after him, sort of hopping but not quite skipping.

"Like this," David said. Every kid should know how to skip. It was a vital skill!

Harry reached out and grabbed David's hand, swinging it back and forth as far as his short arm allowed. David was surprised, as Harry rarely made physical contact, or even acted much like the little kid he was. He wondered if their presence at his home simply relaxed Harry enough to act the way he wanted to, or if it was something else. He had a gut feeling it was something else.

Harry looked up, and it seemed to David that he was making sure it was all right to act the way he was. David made a fish face, and Harry giggled and made a face back.

The next logical thing to do was to sing, so David began, "There's a hole in my bucket…"

Harry joined in, "Dear Liza, dear Liza…"

O o O o O

Harry was excited to be doing something out of the ordinary. The castle itself was never boring, but he wasn't allowed to explore alone. An adult was always with him ever since the assassination attempt. Even though today he was stuck with yet another adult, it was one who knew he didn't like to be babied, and treated him as an adult.

Then the man started skipping. Skipping! A member of the most highly secretive group in the ministry, a group that only hired genius level wizards and witches, skipping!

But wow, that looked fun.

He ran after and kind of hopped behind, trying to get the rhythm down. He didn't ever remember learning to skip, as it was not a skill he had ever needed. It was a lot harder than it looked. David turned around and saw that he wasn't keeping up. "Like this," he said, and proceeded to show him how to spring just on one leg then bounce to the other.

Before long they were both skipping.

Harry had a sudden thought. How far would this man go to play with him? He knew it was a wicked, naughty thought, but now he was curious. For instance, would he be willing to play 'horsey' like Albus used to?

Time to turn on the childish charm.

Harry, greatly looking forward to it despite the internal struggle, reached out and grabbed David's hand, swinging it back and forth. David seemed surprised, then he started singing. It was a song Minerva had just taught Harry, so he joined in.

They reached the astronomy tower just as the song ended, and Harry let go of David's hand, which made the adult part of him happy, and ran over to the big window for viewing the heavens.

He turned back to David. "This is the astronomy tower," he announced in his best teacher voice. "But the other kids don't always come here to look at stars, sometimes they sit against the wall and kiss." He made a face, not only because of the cooties, but also in order to portray the innocent child. Surely that would fluster any adult, right?

"Why would they do that instead of looking at stars?" David asked blandly. However, a twitch in the corner of his mouth gave him away. He did seem honestly interested in Harry's answer, however. Rats. He'd have to think of something else to ruffle David.

Oooh, he had it. After all, even Harry didn't like to think about it much. "I don't know. Ask Papa. He and Minerva like to come up here. They say they want to look at the stars, but I saw them. They were _hugging_!"

"Hugging is not the same as kissing, Harry," David informed him. Of course it wasn't! It was kind of similar, though. "After all, you hug your papa."

"It's not the same," Harry immediately informed him. David didn't look the least bit bothered. However, he did start inspecting the outer edge of the room, waving his wand with what Harry recognized were ward detection charms. He seemed pleased with what he found.

"Where to next?" David asked.

"Gryffindor tower," Harry answered. Oh, he'd throw David off guard soon. It was his new goal, nay, his life mission.

O o O o O

David and Harry finished the tour of Hogwarts with Hagrid's hut. David was awed by the sheer power of the updated wards. Apparently Headmaster Dumbledore had been busy. Harry had been a blast today, both informative and fun. He had been more like a child than David had ever seen him be. They had played 'tag' in the hallways, 'Simon Says' in an unused classroom, and done cartwheels on the Quidditch pitch. David was nearly exhausted, and he knew his latest dosage of liquid luck was about finished. Luckily he had another vial in a hidden, inner pocket of his robes. He would wait until Harry was talking with Hagrid before he drank it, though. It wouldn't do to introduce an innocent kid to something like that.

"Hi, Hagrid!" Harry yelled as he waved through the window.

"Well, if it ain't 'Arry!" Hagrid's unmistakable voice answered from inside. The massive door opened to reveal an even more massive gamekeeper. "Come in! Come in!" Hagrid continued as he stood aside from the doorway. Even standing aside, the man blocked over half the door. He unsuccessfully tried to suck in his gut as Harry giggled and ran past him into the hut. "'Arry, who's yer friend?"

"Oh, this is David," Harry answered with a grin.

"Heeeello." David drawled his customary salutation with a slow half-salute.

"Nice ter meet 'cha," Hagrid said as he extended an immense hand. David reached for it and gasped as Hagrid nearly crushed his hand with an exuberant greeting.

"Oh, we've met before," David said as he shook out his hand. The place looked much the same as when he had been a student, except that now there were copies of Madame Whiddley's cooking column posted near the fireplace. It seemed someone had had one too many of Hagrid's rock cakes and decided to help the man. Actually, whatever Hagrid was stewing in the cauldron over the fire smelled rather appetizing.

"I suppose when yeh were in school," Hagrid said quizzically.

"Yes, I got to know the forbidden forest because of you," David replied. "It was the most popular form of detention if I remember correctly."

Hagrid rubbed his beard and puckered his face as he thought. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers, the sudden sound like a gunshot. "David Scott! Well, I hain't thought o' yeh in years!" He chuckled. "I remember the time yeh were caught with that potion o' yers. Ol' Slughorn might o' been impressed, but Flitwick, he were sure mad." He guffawed and shook his head. "Yeh were always up teh somepin'."

David chuckled. Hagrid never judged. Even when he knew the worst, he saw the best. That was why David liked him. Hagrid was still laughing as he went to stir the cauldron. "Venison stew today, 'Arry," he announced.

"Yum!" Harry exclaimed as he tried to pull out one of Hagrid's huge chairs. David pulled out his wand and helped him. "Thanks!" Harry said as he scrambled up into the chair. "You too, David."

David sat in a second chair as Harry turned to look at Hagrid. David deftly pulled the liquid luck from his pocket and downed it, stowing away the now empty vial. He looked up just in time to see Harry's eyes narrow slightly, almost like a parent's watching their kid sneak a cookie from the cookie jar. For a moment he thought he should be worried, but then he felt the confidence and headiness associated with his potion of choice soar through his veins. Someday it might get him in trouble, but it wouldn't be this day. Felix was going strong.

"What potion was that? Are you sick? We could go back to the infirmary if you're sick," Harry fired off. He started to climb down from the chair.

"No, I'm not sick," David answered. There was no easy getting out of this. That is, there wouldn't be if not for Felix. "I take it so I won't get sick."

"Then maybe I should have some, too," Harry said seriously. "I don't want to be sick."

"Er, it's not for young boys," David answered. "It might hurt you."

Harry looked very disappointed at that.

O o O

Harry watched as David covertly took a potion. If he wasn't mistaken, that was liquid luck, a potion he was most familiar with, as he and Hermione had brewed some for the Light forces in the early part of the war. He had often noticed that things seemed to slide off of David. He was never blamed for anything, and everything seemed to go right when he was around. Apparently it wasn't natural luck.

Harry teased David, knowing that it would come off as inquisitiveness, but when David said that it might hurt him, he remembered some of the side effects. Using Liquid Luck occasionally was alright, but all the time...its power was not infinite, and once it hit its limit, it hit it hard, and the worst part about it was, there was no warning. In short, long term use was harmful, even if it seemed to the user as if everything was fine.

Harry now saw David's death in the former timeline in a new light. He had always known something was off about the story, and now he knew what. Only a man under long term abuse of Felix Felicis could have gone the way David did. He had to warn him!

"David, you know that's bad for you," Harry said, putting on his best scolding face.

"Eh, don't pester teh lad, 'Arry," Hagrid said as he stood from the cauldron. "Some people need their vitam'ns more than others," he added, seemingly convinced David's words were one hundred percent valid as he lifted two steaming bowls. The heat didn't even seem to hurt his bare hands as he placed the bowls in front of Harry and David, then turned back to ladle his own bowl.

"But it is!" Harry insisted. After all, he had come back in time to prevent deaths. He could feel his heart beginning to race as he thought about it. Thought about how much he had gotten to know David and how David treated him as a child -and- as an equal...like a friend. His child side rose to the surface, pushing aside rationality and all levels of calmness as pure unrestrained emotion came to the forefront. Tears rose in his eyes. "I don't want you to die!"

"What! 'Arry, 'e's not gonna die!" Hagrid said, partially scolding and partially comforting.

"But he did!" Harry exclaimed, crying as his emotions took the upper hand. "He stole a horcrux from Gringott's and rode out on a dragon, then the dragon tried to eat him, and he fell off, broke through an awning, and crashed onto the street. Just when he was getting up, he got hit by the Knight bus! Its brakes had gone out! I don't want that to happen this time!" He heard glass shatter somewhere behind him and gasped, trying to rein in his emotions before he ruined Hagrid's hut.

Hagrid set down his bowl and grabbed Harry in a bear hug. Feeling both smothered and safe, Harry let himself cry. As his sobs lessened, he felt rather than heard his magic putting back together whatever he had broken. Somehow he felt...better than he had in some time, although he had this absurd desire to put his thumb in his mouth.

Instead, he looked up, catching David's eye. David looked absolutely taken aback. Harry would have congratulated himself on a successful mission if the situation were not so dire.

"Er," David began slowly, "when did this happen?"

Uh-oh. The good feeling was gone, and in its place, a nasty feeling twisted his gut. What exactly had he said? Had he given it all away? What could he say now?

Hagrid looked up at David. "Don't upset teh lad." Good, wonderful Hagrid. However, he had to give some explanation, something plausible.

Harry wiggled out of Hagrid's hug and sat back in his seat, wiping his nose with his sleeve. That was a big no-no, but he knew Hagrid and David wouldn't care. Hagrid, a look of concern on his honest face, sat gingerly in his own chair. Harry looked up and saw David looking expectant. "It, um, it was a dream," Harry answered. Kids were scared by dreams, right? He knew his were scary sometimes.

David scratched his bristly chin, obviously thinking. "A dream?" he asked, leaning forward. "When did you have this dream? It must have been pretty scary. Dragons and all."

"Dragons ain't scary," Hagrid put in conversationally as he began eating his soup. "They're just misun'erstood."

"This one was," Harry insisted. "He tried to eat David."

"But he didn't," David pointed out.

"No, you got hit by the Knight Bus," Harry reiterated solemnly.

"I knew there was something scary about that bus," David said with a smirk.

"I'm sure teh bus is fine, 'Arry," Hagrid said. "It was just a dream. It didn't really 'appen."

Harry nearly smiled, but masked it by taking a spoonful of soup. That was what he was hoping they would think. Just one more push. "But it was still scary."

"Yeah, I've had some strange ones," David said, now also eating. "Actually, I had one where your papa was angry with some of us in school and was turning us all into bunnies."

Harry felt his eyes grow as he tried not to spit his soup all over the table. As soon as he swallowed it, he laughed at the image.

"Hey, you laugh now, but at the time it was rather frightening," David protested.

Hagrid chuckled, seeming much more at ease now that no one was crying. "Yeh never told me that one. When was that?"

"Last week sometime," David said with a shrug.

Harry tried not to snicker as he sipped more of the delicious venison stew. It seemed the crisis had been averted, at least for now.

O o O o O

Rebekah Lovegood walked toward Albus' office, watching her daughter, Luna, skip in front of her. A small smile graced her pretty face as she noticed Luna humming the song Xenophilius had taught her to ward off hexal drats. Luna ran ahead and turned a corner. Rebekah followed at her usual sedate pace. Luna wasn't afraid of ghosts or talking portraits, and the only people allowed in the castle were those who meant well to the inhabitants. There was nothing to fear here.

"Hi, I'm Luna," Rebekah heard. Now who was her daughter talking to? An imaginary friend or a real person?

"I'm David," a man's voice answered. She had heard that voice before, but where?

Only one way to find out. Rebekah turned the corner and saw Harry holding a thin man's hand. The man looked more relaxed than anyone Rebekah had seen who wasn't taking sedatives. A millisecond later, she knew who he was. David Scott, Unspeakable.

Rebekah was confused. What was this man doing at Hogwarts, and why was he acquainted with Harry? However, as she watched David bend down a bit to converse with the much smaller children, another reaction arose, concern.

Rebekah occasionally counseled for the Unspeakables. She knew some of what the various groups studied, but her specialty was psychiatry, in which she had both a wizarding and muggle degree. She gave what the muggles called a 'psychiatric evaluation' to each person who was about to join, and it had been her experience that the kind of work the unspeakables did occasionally drew in unstable types. Actually, every Unspeakable she had met was a bit unhinged, not that it usually hindered their work.

There were very few who she considered dangerous, however. Maybe they wouldn't snap today, but given enough push, they were bound to go over the edge, and probably take others with them. She had advised the Unspeakable leader against hiring them, but most had some sort of ability that made them valuable. She did insist that, at the very least, these dangerous ones speak with her or another licensed counselor once a month. The Unspeakables complied.

David was one she met with once a month, and he was talking with her daughter and a young boy she considered a son.

"Hello Harry, Mr. Scott," she said, masking her uneasiness with what she called her 'patient smile.' She made sure her very posture was emanating calm. She forced herself to think about where they were. Obviously, Albus trusted the man, and Hogwarts did not outright ban him from the grounds. Besides, David was such that he would never harm children. "It's good to see you."

"You as well, Dr. Lovegood," David answered slowly, smiling.

Luna and Harry both looked confused. Luna piped up, as if sensing the awkward silence that might break out. "You're friends with my mom? How come I've never met you?"

"Luna, honey, I know a lot of people that you don't know," Rebekah answered.

"How come?" Luna asked innocently. "You know everyone I know."

"But we've met now," David answered for her. "You want to walk with us? We were on our way to see Albus." He directed his question to Luna, then reached out his other hand, which Luna happily grasped.

"That's where we're going, too," Luna said happily.

David started off down the hall, and Rebekah followed behind, somewhat comforted that they would be seeing Albus soon. Perhaps she could discretely find answers to what was going on. That was something she was very good at.

"Do you like crumple-horned snorknacks?" Luna asked. "I do."

Despite the situation, Rebekah smiled as David asked what they were and Luna began a detailed description. Harry turned back to look at her pensively, then turned his attention to Luna's narrative.

O o O

Albus sat in his office, admiring the way the instruments on his desk sparkled. The sunlight came in at just the right position to refract into rainbows and coat his office in a bright cacophony of color and light. The emergency Quidditch pitch meeting had concluded with promises to renovate the field. Small animals had tunneled under it and one of the posts was beginning to lean. Hopefully, the plans they had discussed would prevent this from happening in the future. Albus leaned back in his chair. Harry and David should be back soon, and Rebekah Lovegood was coming in to drop Luna off for an evening play date.

Albus chuckled at the thought. Harry would vehemently deny taking part in any date, but that was what parents called these get-togethers.

Ah! It seemed the four met in the halls and came as a group. "Enter," Albus said as Luna was about to knock. Actually, she was probably reaching for the doorknob and just going to enter, but that was neither here nor there. "Good afternoon Healer Lovegood, Mr. Scott, Miss Lovegood, Mr. Dumbledore."

Luna and Harry giggled at the formal address. "Let's go play," Luna suggested. Harry agreed and Luna looked up at David. "Will you play, too?"

David shook his head. "No, I have to speak with Albus."

Luna shrugged and let go of his hand. Harry did the same. "Bye Mom, bye David, bye Mr. Dumbledore," Luna said as she and Harry went into the Dumbledores' living area, closing the door behind them.

"Lemon drop?" Albus questioned.

"Of course," David answered. Rebekah declined.

Albus gestured to his candy bowl, then chuckled at the confused look on David's face as he picked up a yellow candy that suddenly turned blue. Albus had gotten quite used to the changing colors due to Harry's rune network, but seeing the surprise on other's faces was entertaining.

Instead of putting the candy directly into his mouth, David asked, "Would you like to hear my report or speak with Dr. Lovegood first?"

"Forgive me, Healer Lovegood, but I will hear David first. However, you are welcome to remain," Albus said. He nodded to David to begin.

"Well, the defenses are very good," David began as Rebekah sat in one of the chairs in front of Albus' desk. "I noticed that not only are the wards much improved, but they cover the secret entrances as well. Actually, the only weak points I saw were if someone wanted to mount an attack from the air or from the Forbidden Forest. There are a few wards that are not well known that would work for the roof, but I know there's the complication of the centaurs in the forest."

"The forest belongs to the centaurs and they keep it well patrolled," Albus said. "If something can get through them, more wards will not necessarily help."

David nodded. "I figured that was the case, but I thought you should know anyway." He pulled a wadded piece of parchment from his pocket. "Here are some of the wards I was talking about for the roof, if you want them."

"Thank you," Albus said. He had not thought much about an attack from the air, but making sure the wards had a 'ceiling' would definitely be a good idea. He set the list aside to peruse later. "Anything else?"

"No, the wards seem very well placed," David answered.

"Thank you for coming out, David," Albus said warmly. Even though he had known the wards were good, it soothed him to hear an expert say it. "Well, I would love to chat with you, but Healer Lovegood and I have things to discuss."

"Alright," David said with a lazy salute. "I'll see you soon."

"Thank you again, David," Albus said as David left.

He waited until David was at the bottom of the staircase before he spoke to Rebekah. "I am sorry for the wait, but now we can speak."

Rebekah nodded and pulled her chair closer, glancing at the door that led to the Dumbledores' private rooms. Seeing that it was shut, she turned her full attention on Albus and waited for him to speak, as usual.

"I see you met David on your way up," Albus began. It was often good to start with pleasantries.

Rebekah hesitated for a moment, then answered, "We've met before. Actually, we've known each other for quite awhile. I didn't realize you knew him, though."

Albus paused, but he did not feel the usual compulsion to avoid talking about the Unspeakables to Rebekah. The only reason that could be was if Rebekah already knew David was an Unspeakable. "Yes," he said carefully. When the compulsion did not kick in, he continued. "He is one of the Unspeakables that Harry and I see once a month."

Rebekah nodded. "In that case, I know the rest of the group as well."

"Really?" Albus asked, intrigued. "Harry and I have been working with them for nearly four years now." He had a sudden thought. Rebekah was a mind healer, a psychiatrist as the muggles would say. If she knew the Unspeakables that Albus and Harry worked with, perhaps she had more information on them, information from a different perspective. It couldn't hurt to ask, anyway. "Perhaps you could tell me some more about them. I have only worked with them in a professional setting."

Rebekah placed one of her long, delicate fingers on her chin and tilted her head in thought. "I'm sorry, but as you know, it is a professional discourtesy to discuss my other clients with you."

Albus blinked. Did that mean she saw them in a professional sense? Perhaps one or two made sense, but all of them?

"I see you are confused," Rebekah said with a slight smile. "I can explain this much. I do the preliminary psychiatric evaluations for people wanting to enter the Unspeakables' department. Sometimes I follow up on them."

Albus nodded.

"Actually, if you feel like you want to discuss anything that you and Harry do with the Unspeakables," Rebekah continued, "I have the highest clearance. I know it can be somewhat comforting to have someone outside the normal sphere of influence to talk to."

Albus was taken aback at her offer. There was already so much he had shared with her, more than with anyone else, except Harry, of course. The fact that she was willing and able to listen to more showed what an incredible person she was. Albus regretted that he had not taken the opportunity to get to know her in the previous timeline, but at least he knew her now. She had proven to be a blessing for both him and Harry. "Thank you very much. I appreciate it," Albus said. "However, I will have to think about it before I speak to you."

"Oh, of course," Rebekah responded. "Take as much time as you need." She was so understanding and patient. "I do, however, have something to say to you about the matter."

"Yes, what is it?" Albus asked. He could tell that she was worried about something.

"I would advise you and Harry to be careful when working with the Unspeakables," Rebekah answered. "They can be dangerous, even if their intentions are noble. I am telling you this as a friend."

"I know that one was a death eater," Albus responded, "but he gave an oath that he had been infiltrating the death eaters and would not cause us harm."

"Oh, I doubt that any of them would intentionally harm you or Harry," Rebekah said quickly. "It would just be best to be careful."

"Healer Lovegood," Albus said seriously, "I am always careful."

O o O o O

Harry entered the Great Hall, bright, colorful presents floating high above to form the number 6.

Albus had gone all out, though he did that every year.

Harry shook his head, albeit with a smile. Although Albus never said it, Harry was certain part of the reason Albus dedicated so much for his birthdays was because of what his previous life had included, birthday-wise. Particularly the years before Hogwarts, though nearly all of his birthdays back then were pretty bleak, now that he thought about it.

Taking himself away from such memories, memories which had no bearing on reality now, he looked to the people who had come.

He quickly found the Lovegoods and ran over to them. Mr. Lovegood was always happy to see him. He would go on and on with how curious it was that magic mites were always gathering at Harry's feet and how the micro-hexal drakes were often fluttering around his hands, specifically his right.

"Hi, Mr. Lovegood," Harry said, looking up at the bizarre looking man.

"Ah, Harry, you know to call me Xeno," he said with a smile, patting Harry on the head.

Luna giggled.

"Daddy, Harry's not a puppy," she said. "He's a dragon."

Harry raised his eyebrow.

"I thought I was a boy," he said.

"Oh, you are Harry, but you're not only a boy, are you?" she said.

Harry wasn't sure how to take that comment at all, so decided to move on with a shrug.

"Hey, Harry!"

He turned to find Neville coming with his parents calmly trailing behind. Harry smiled, once again pushing back the memory of how they had looked in St. Mungos during his fifth year a time jump away.

"Happy Birthday, Neville!" Harry said, his childish excitement spilling over.

Harry often wondered why it had taken him years into his schooling at Hogwarts to get to know Neville last time. Neville was Neville, parents or no, though he had gained his confidence much sooner this time around. The Neville he had left in the future was much like this Neville now, at least where it mattered. Strong, honest, faithful and loyal.

"You too, Harry!"

Going to the table, they all got cake from Albus, who happily gave them extra icing.

"Hey, Harry, who is that boy over there?" Neville asked, giving a slight motion with his hand to the far end of the room. His mum had told him never to outright point. That was rude.

Harry and Luna looked over to where he had indicated and found Narcissa and Draco Malfoy.

"Draco Malfoy," Harry answered. "Papa told me he might come."

"Malfoy? But wasn't that one of—" Neville cut himself off, clearly having more emotional capacity than a teaspoon.

"Yes, but Papa said Draco may not be like his father."

"I hope not," Neville said. "Daddy said Mr. Malfoy was a very bad man."

"He seems a bit scared, don't you think?" Luna pointed out.

"He probably doesn't go to many birthday parties," Neville noted.

"Mum said it's polite to say hi to new people; come on," Luna continued, already on her way to the Malfoys.

Harry quickly got ahead of her. He had thought long and hard about his first meeting with Draco. He had to make the first move if he was going to set a strong impression.

Stopping in front of them, Draco taking a peek from behind his mother, Harry gave a brief dramatic bow.

Looking up and finding Narcissa looking at him with a barely hidden dumbfounded expression, Harry smiled and threw out his left hand.

"Papa said it's polite to bow like that to guests," he said. "Hi, and welcome to my and Neville's birthday party! Who are you?"

"How gracious of you. I am Narcissa Malfoy, and this is my son, Draco. I trust your Papa informed you of our coming?" she asked.

Harry wondered for a moment if this was a test. Huh. Perhaps it was. Oh well. Best to play blissful kid.

"Yes Ma'am. I'm glad you let Draco come. New friends are cool," Harry said, before glancing at Neville and Luna. "Old ones are too, of course," he added before turning back to Narcissa and Draco. "Oh! This is Luna Lovegood, and my other best friend, Neville Longbottom."

Narcissa's eyebrows rose slightly, evidently not used to five (technically six) year olds knowing how to introduce people, or perhaps it was who he had introduced so happily. She didn't have a chance to react further than that though, because Harry continued, moving forward and just coming into what she deemed as her space.

He stuck his left hand forward toward her son, who was now beginning to come out from behind her.

"Hi, I'm Harry! Have you had cake yet? Papa lets us get extra icing if we like. He says cuz it's my and Neville's birthdays we can have as much sugar as we want!"

Draco, who was a bit overwhelmed, looked up at his mother for permission, as well as with a look of 'is he serious?'

"Go on, Draco. It's time you make more friends of your own age," she prompted briskly, a bit hesitant herself, though she hid it well.

Draco beamed and grabbed Harry's hand, shaking it enthusiastically.

"I love sugar, but I can only have a little bit," he said, sparing another glance back to Narcissa, as if expecting a scolding of admitting such a thing.

Harry decided to be daring.

"Mrs. Malfoy, you don't like sugar, do you?" Harry looked contemplative. "Professor McGonagall doesn't like sugar much either. Maybe it's a girl thing . . . though Professor Bear doesn't seem to like too much sugar either. . . . Does chocolate really give you those pimple thingies? I heard one of the second years saying that. If chocolate gives you those things, maybe it's the sugar that does that. Is that why you don't like sugar? Are you afraid to get them?"

Harry looked expectantly up at her, as if her words were pure gold. He even teetered back slightly.

Narcissa actually looked amused. "Sugar is just something one should have sparingly. Having too much can make you sick."

"Is that why Papa likes so much color? Professor McGonagall says all that color makes her woozy."

"Does your Papa eat a lot of sweets?" she asked, glancing at Albus Dumbledore who was across the room.

He seemed to be having the time of his life, handing out cakes covered in sparkling icing. He might as well have been in a candy store, with how colorful and lively he currently was. Though, he almost always looked that way.

"What's a lot?" Harry asked.

"Hmm, like a simple handful."

"Hmm, he has more than a lot then. More like a lotlotlotlotlot_lot_."

"But you don't have that much do you?" she asked.

Harry blinked at her. "No. My hands aren't that big." He opened his hands out before him for a brief moment, before quickly hiding his right. He didn't like showing his right palm. People stared.

"Wow! That's an awesome scar!" Draco blurted out before he could stop himself.

He turned bright red and looked nervously at Harry, suddenly realizing he had said that out loud and in front of, not only Harry, but his mother. He was too afraid to look up at her.

"Draco Malfoy! I have taught you better," she said, not exactly raising her voice, but injecting it with a venom Harry had scarcely heard.

Draco ducked his head, clearly ashamed as invisible ice crystals seemed to spread out from Narcissa, freezing the air. Harry could almost swear this was the case.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to say that," Draco apologized.

Had Harry been told Draco would one day apologize to him, he would have laughed and said 'when hell freezes,' granted, with how Narcissa was affecting the place. . . .

"It's okay," Harry said softly, glancing briefly at Narcissa with a look even she couldn't place. "At least you're not making fun or asking me questions."

Draco blinked.

"People make fun of you?" he asked, utterly stunned.

Who would have the guts to make fun of the Next Merlin?

Harry shrugged. He had never been made fun of to his face, of course, but he occasionally heard students talking and snickering a few times, asking each other what would happen if they touched his scar and the like. And the fact people saw that he did very little with his scarred hand only seemed to amplify their tactless curiosity.

Draco seemed to straighten his back and lift up his chin at that. "Well, if I hear anyone saying anything mean about you, I'll punch them," he stated, evidently forgetting his mother was still standing behind him.

"Surely you have learned by now there are more effective ways to teaching people a lesson, Draco. I will not have my son being barbaric or uncivilized."

"Sorry, mother. I meant jinx, not punch."

"Hmph. I better not catch you doing anything of the sort," she said sternly.

Harry noticed she hadn't said _not_ to jinx, just not to get _caught_.

"Are we going to get Draco some cake, Harry?" Luna asked, now at his side, Neville on the other.

They looked to Narcissa.

"Play nicely, Draco," she said, before simply turning and heading to a group of adults.

Draco nodded happily, before quickly being led by Harry and the others to the cake table.

O o O

Jess and Don entered the Great Hall, instantly finding Anna and the others among the mingling adults. Squinting for a moment and allowing her eyes to get used to the amount of magic, Jess allowed her husband to guide her about to one of the tables, specifically the one covered in gifts.

Placing the presents she and Don had gotten for Harry and Neville, she turned to where she had just scene Dumbledore's signature. It was one of the largest auras in the room, rivaled by Harry's, though there was something else at her peripheral vision that was fairly large.

Rotating slightly, oblivious to how Don had paused at her sudden movement, she focused her attention at the collection of magic. It was dense at its origin, extending outward like a dust cloud around a figure that took her a moment to identify as a fellow party guest. Allowing her eyes to glaze through the haze, she quickly realized the odd aura was not coming from the person, but an object the person was wearing.

"Dear, why are you staring at Narcissa Malfoy?" Don asked very quietly beside her.

Jess didn't respond at first, her mind trying to process what she was seeing, before the startling truth hit her.

"Because the necklace she's wearing is a horcrux."

Don frowned, looking back at Narcissa.

"Is it affecting her?"

"I don't know, but I don't think this is something we should discuss here. However, I will say that the magic extends a decent amount out."

"Should we tell Albus?"

"It doesn't seem to be doing anything, but we will tell him when we have a chance."

"I'll watch her," he stated.

"Good plan."

O o O

Harry looked behind him to glance at Narcissa. Something was definitely not right. He turned back around, sticking his finger in his slice of cake to scoop up some icing.

_It's almost as if sh—_ Harry paused in his thoughts, his eyes widening. _Oh, no._

"Harry? Are you okay?" Luna asked, noticing he had stopped halfway in eating his icing.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I was just thinking," he said, brushing his troubled feelings away. He briefly noticed Albus turning toward him to make sure he was okay. Harry sent him feelings of peace, though concern was still within it. It told Albus they would need to talk later.

"Ready to open presents, birthday boys?" Flitwick asked, coming up from behind them.

"Yeah!" Neville said, nearly dropping his cake in his excitement.

The rest of the party was as all little boy parties should be. Full of sugar, gifts, groaning adults (Anna and Seth had gotten into a cake eating contest and were holding their stomachs) and hyper children (and adults, if you counted Flitwick and David). It was only after opening all the gifts, eating loads of icing and cake did Harry himself realize how late it was getting.

How time flies when one is having fun.

The Malfoys took their leave with the first batch of departing guests, but Draco promised to ask his mom if he could go to Hogwarts at some point to play with Harry. Harry was hopeful, though the fact that Narcissa was wearing a horcrux did worry him, however, at least they now knew where one of them definitely was.

Neville and his parents were the next to leave, along with the Lovegoods. Not long after that, most everyone else had gone as well.

"Well, Harry, time for bed, I think," Albus said, coming up to him.

"Okay, Papa," Harry said as Jess slowly approached them.

Harry was a bit curious as to why Jess and Don hadn't left yet, perhaps they had wanted to personally wish him a happy birthday without strangers about? Though, that thought quickly left him when he caught a glimpse of wariness on Jess' face.

"Could we, perhaps, talk somewhere?" she asked, looking to Albus.

"Of course," he answered. "To my office."

Don and Jess followed Albus and Harry, making it to the gargoyle in record time.

"Now, what is this about?" Albus asked, the door to his office closing behind him.

"The necklace. Narcissa has it. She's actually wearing the thing, if you can believe that," Jess began immediately.

"Necklace?" Albus asked, trying to understand the significance of what Jess was saying. "You mean _the_ necklace?"

"Yes, horrid aura and all. I think it may be worse than others I've seen because it is gathering energy," she said, before stopping herself from giving further details as she looked down at Harry.

Harry looked up at them and then at Albus. "You'll tuck me in when you're done talking, right?"

"Of course."

"Okay. I'll wait on my bed then."

"After you wash up and brush your teeth," Albus said.

Harry nodded and hurried out of the room.

Jess and Don exchanged impressed glances, before looking back at Dumbledore.

"So you are certain it is the one?" Albus asked.

"Yeah, which leads me to believe she has the other two as well," Jess said. "She must have inherited them from other death eater families, possibly from the Lestranges, Blacks, or one of the other more prominent families. I don't see Voldemort trusting any other old family with a piece of his soul."

"I'd have to agree with you," Albus said.

"Understandably, I felt I should let you know about my finding as soon as possible. I also plan to talk with Anna about this and ask her if she would be willing to talk with Narcissa about them. She has a way going about things safely, and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to realize having a horcrux can be detrimental to one's health, and having multiple around is definitely not good, at least in most circumstances."

Dumbledore nodded, thinking.

"Thank you for telling me," he said.

"No problem. Oh, before I forget, have you . . . have you told Harry anything about Horcruxes?" she asked.

Albus couldn't prevent himself from shifting back slightly. "Not explicitly, why?"

"When David came to visit, Harry used the word," Don said.

"Ah, his dream," Albus supplied for them. "Yes, he told me about his nightmare, though I'm not entirely sure where he had heard the term from, though he must have heard it from me because there is nowhere else he could have picked up that term."

"Does he have these sorts of dreams often?" Jess asked.

Albus paused, weighing his options. This could allow any future slips to be easily covered. . . .

"Well, as you very well know, the bond allows for my emotions to be felt by him and his to be felt by me. Occasionally, dreams do as well. Perhaps that is how he picked up that word and how it, for lack of a better phrase, bled off into his own dreams."

"Albus, are you telling us you both sometimes witness each other's dreams? Why have you not shared this with us before?"

"It's a very rare occurrence, and sometimes impossible to realize if it's happened," Albus answered. "After hearing this, however, I will take more steps to prevent it."

"You should talk to Anna," Jess suggested. "She might have some ideas."

"I will do that, thank you," Albus said. "If there is nothing else, I have to figure out how to explain a horcrux to a six year old and see if he's been picking anything else up from my dreams."

Turning to the door with Jess, Don smirked. "Good luck."

O o O o O

Bartemius Crouch Jr, respected auror, heir to the Crouch name and fortune, and former death eater, sat at a long table used for meetings. Behind his mask, he frowned at the loud, vulgar speech of the other attendees. If the Master were to walk in now, the Master would not be pleased.

The Master, for Bartemius knew his leader by no other name, had slowly gathered these ten people. They were mostly former death eaters, but a few were new. The new ones were the ones talking loudly and harshly. They were getting to know each other, for goodness sake! Did they not know that the purpose of masks and cloaks was to hide identities so that they could not give each other away if caught?

The eight former death eaters (at least, he assumed they were) sat in their places at the table, simply waiting. For most, not even a tilt of the head showed that the people behind the masks had emotion. One was looking at the loud talkers in a way that suggested annoyance, but even that person said nothing. Bartemius himself made sure his posture showed no emotion, no hint of who he truly was.

The door opened. Only the Master could use the door, as it was warded against all others. The ten members portkeyed in when a meeting was called, but did not know where the place was. Behind the mask, Bartemius smiled. A good master took all the best precautions against the unwanted and unknown.

"My apologies for my lateness," the Master said. "I had other obligations which took more time than intended." The Master looked at the two who had been talking. "Should I catch you speaking in such a manner again, you will wish you had been under Lord Voldemort's care."

The two shivered at her use of the former Dark Lord's name. Bartemius had to admit that the first time he had heard his new Master use it, he had been just as struck. However, as time passed and his new Master was not struck dead or cursed, Bartemius acknowledged that his current Master was the one who should be feared, not the one who had been defeated by a baby.

The two newest members quickly scrambled to the far end of the table, taking the seats that indicated they were the lowest in the group. Silence reigned as the Master sat at the head of the table. "Thank you for coming on such short notice. I have called this meeting in order to set down the plans for the death or capture of the Dumbledores."

All masks were turned toward the Master, and everyone sat in a position of anticipation.

"Though the vampires failed the first time, they will be given another chance," the Master continued. "I have already been over their plans, and have approved them. What I wish to discuss with you are the plans for what to do with them after their capture.

"While they assure me that their plans are fool proof, there are fools in every mission who thrive on botching it." The Master's mask turned briefly to the two members at the end of the table. "Thus there will be several safety measures in place. I welcome your input."

Bartemius smiled. His new Master operated nothing like Voldemort.

This Master was better.

* * *

A/N: Well, sorry it's been so long, class projects have really been insane, but the semester is over ^^. Hopefully we can write more during the break. Anyway, hope you all liked this part. It was a long time in the making, and the next part is even more so....*cough* (going to be very O.O).

O o O o O

Side A/N clip: (flash of alternate timeline-David's Death)

A robed, slightly dazed looking form rose from the surface of the street.

"Look out, Ernie!"

Too late.

*Thud, thump-thump*

"Drive, Ernie, drive! And don't look back!"

O o O o O

Horrible, we know, but we couldn't resist.....


	18. Protected

Disclaimer: Really? We don't own this? Are you sure? Darn, must have been a dream then.

* * *

**Part 18: Protected**

Remus Lupin stood at the front doors to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. "That's new," he commented, staring at a large gold rope with a tassel on its end. He pulled it, but heard nothing.

As he waited to see what would happen, he glanced back at his mentor, Elric Provo. Elric was descended from some of the first American colonists to be bitten by the native werewolves, and his ancestors had learned valuable secrets. Specifically, how to control the beast once one shifted. He took it upon himself to teach others in the American pack. Although it was very slow going, progress was being made, and a few had learned enough to stay behind and pass along the instructions.

Remus rubbed his hands on his new robes, robes he had bought just for this occasion. The Americans mostly wore muggle type clothes, such as jeans and t-shirts, and Remus had adapted to that. He thought, however, that for coming before Albus Dumbledore and re-meeting Harry, he would wear something more traditional.

A house elf answered the door. "Hello misters," it said with a bow. "What cans Fidget do for sirs?"

"We're here to see the Headmaster," Remus answered. "He should be expecting us." It was mostly true, Albus was expecting Remus, just not his mentor.

"Is you Mr. Lupsin, sir?" Fidget asked.

"Lupin," Remus answered. As the elf's face suddenly fell into despair that he had gotten a name wrong, Remus added, "But that's close enough."

Fidget murmured something about punishment, then he was back to the chipper elf who had greeted them. "Come this way, sirs."

Remus wanted to let poor Fidget know that he didn't have to punish himself, but house elves were strange beings. At any hint that what he was doing was wrong, he could start punishing himself right in the hall, and that would just be cruel. However, he did have a question. "Is Hogwarts so unguarded that anyone can enter the grounds?"

"Oh, no, sirs," Fidget answered happily. "What with the great Dumblys' being attacked, Hogwarts was made so only the pure can enter." He almost swelled with pride.

_It can't be that safe if two werewolves can enter,_ Remus thought, but this was a discussion better had with Albus himself.

Speaking of which, Fidget had led them to the foot of the Headmaster's office. Remus glanced at the grotesque creature guarding the stairs. "One moment, please, sirs," Fidget said as he disappeared with a 'pop.' Remus tapped his fingers against his hip with impatience. Would Harry remember him? Probably not.

"Calm down, Remus," Provo said. "Emotion leads to the dark side." It was a paraphrase of something some famous muggle had said.

Remus stopped tapping his fingers and concentrated on simply breathing. This was the first step to controlling the beast.

The gargoyle in front of the stairs slid aside, and both Remus and Provo stepped on the moving stairway. "Enter, Remus," a familiar grandfatherly voice spoke from inside. Remus did so, opening the door and stepping over the threshold.

"Moony!" Harry shouted and ran for him. Nearly all the anxiety melted away when he looked at the child and caught him in his arms. Harry remembered him! And with fondness!

"Hello, Harry," Remus said, trying to keep the tears of joy at bay as he looked the child over. Harry seemed well, and he had grown so much since Remus saw him last. Seeing James' black, messy hair and Lily's beautiful green eyes made him miss his friends all the more. He knew they would be proud of the Harry, though. They always had been. "Good morning, Headmaster," he said as he glanced up into the twinkling blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore.

"Please, it has been a long time since you were in school," Albus reprimanded. "Call me Albus."

"Sorry, Albus," Remus said. He let go of Harry as the boy began to squirm. "I would have been here earlier, but, well..." he trailed off as Harry looked at him expectantly. The moon had been full two nights before, and Remus had had to wait, but he didn't want to tell Harry that.

"Oh, I understand, my boy," Albus said with a conspiratorial nod. "Who is your friend?"

Remus apologized. "This is my mentor, Elric Provo."

"Nice to meet you," Albus said with a smile. Provo reached out and shook his hand. "Lemon drop, either of you?"

"I'll take one!" Harry said, jumping up and down.

"No, you've had enough sugar this morning," Albus answered. "Perhaps with lunch."

Harry gave a sigh. "'Kay," he grumbled.

Remus and Provo both declined the offered sweet. Albus stood. "Would you like to be shown to your rooms?"

"I was under the impression we would be staying at the Three Broomsticks," Remus said. Surely Albus wouldn't want two werewolves staying under the same roof of not only his ward, but an entire school full of children.

"Once the school year begins," Albus answered, "staying somewhere else would be preferable. Until then, though, you are both welcome to stay here at Hogwarts. After all, she let you in."

"That is something I would like to talk to you about," Remus said as he glanced at Harry's beaming face. "But later, perhaps."

"Very well," Albus said. "Would you like to see your rooms now or later?"

"I suppose now would be best," Remus said. "We can drop off our things."

Albus nodded and walked to the door, holding it open for everyone. Harry reached up with his left hand to grasp Remus', moving his right hand slightly behind him. Only then did Remus notice the horrific looking scar on Harry's right palm. Why, it looked worse than some of his own! He had read about Harry's scar, of course, but seeing it in person was something else entirely.

When Remus looked away from Harry's hand, he saw the boy's eyes focused on him. Harry was frowning in a sad way. "You have scars too, I bet," he said.

They reached the bottom of the steps and waited for Albus to lead the way. "Well, yes, actually," Remus said, embarrassed. He had done exactly what he hated, stared at someone because they were different.

Harry glanced up at Albus' back, then lowered his voice mischievously. "Can I see them?"

"Sure," Remus whispered back, "but you have to let go of my arm." Harry did so expectantly, and Remus rolled up his sleeve. He had several long scars from different fights during the full moon, some of them older than Harry.

Harry's eyes grew nearly as big as dinner plates. "The other wolves hurt you so much?"

Remus blinked, stonewalled. It was with effort he kept his feet moving down the hallway. Albus had told him? Was he simply warning Harry of possible danger or was it something else? He wondered how much he should say. He settled with being ambiguous. "What wolves?"

Harry gave him a, 'don't try to hide from me, young man' look that he must have picked up from Albus. It would have been adorable except for the seriousness of the situation.

Remus decided to be hesitantly truthful after a glance at Provo. Provo did not seem perturbed by the question, and even gave Remus a look that said plainly, 'answer the boy.'

"Sometimes," Remus answered, "but not all of these are from wolves." He pointed to a thin scar that wrapped around his wrist. "This one was from a Quidditch match."

Harry brightened up, a huge grin lighting his face. "You played Quidditch?"

"Well, not for Hogwarts," Remus amended, "but I played with my friends. Your dad was one of the greatest players I ever saw." He sighed as he remembered the good days.

"Did he give you that scar?" Harry asked.

"Goodness no," Remus answered with a smile. "That was one of the Slytherins we played against. He knocked me off my broom, and I came down right on my wrist."

Harry cringed as if he knew what that felt like. He rubbed his own wrist. Albus glanced behind. "All right, Harry?"

"Yes, Papa," Harry answered. "Remus was just telling me about a Quidditch injury."

Albus chuckled. "Yes, I recall there was an impromptu match between Gryffindor and Slytherin that day."

Remus was surprised, yet strangely, not surprised that Albus remembered that. At least it had taken Harry's mind off of wolves.

"Ah, here we are," Albus said, gesturing to two plain doors across the hall from each other. Remus opened one and heard Provo opening the other. Inside was a small room with a bed, desk, and washbasin. As he pulled his shrunken suitcase out of his pocket, Remus tested the bed. He honestly felt like he could take a nap now.

The Americas, while less openly hostile to werewolves than Great Britain, still had rules to follow. He and Provo had had to fill out countless forms covering their destination, itinerary, and possible return date. Since he was unaware of when he would return, he had to fill out more forms requesting semi-permanent leave from the States. Next he and Provo had chosen to fly as muggles, since neither of them had done so, even though both of them were slightly apprehensive. This required more paperwork.

Finally, there was jet lag and the journey from the London airport to Hogwarts. Some rest would be nice.

"Why don't the two of you rest for a bit," Albus offered. "We could meet up again for lunch."

Bless the man. It was almost as if Albus had read his mind. Of course, it being Albus Dumbledore, anything was possible.

O o O o O

"Anna, I need to talk to you," Jess said at the end of the day.

"It wasn't me," Anna answered quickly, spinning around to meet Jess' eyes.

"The flooding incident?" Jess questioned, recalling earlier in the day when a cube of water was found floating above the coffee table in the common area.

"Yeah, sure, that," Anna answered. She seemed rather distracted.

"Oh, I didn't think it was," Jess said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "But I need to talk to you privately."

"Sure," Anna said. Jess could practically see the wheels turning in her head as she tried to figure out why she was in trouble. Jess let her stew. She probably had done something to deserve a talking to, even if Jess didn't know what it was.

Jess led Anna into her office, closing the door behind her. "Narcissa has a horcrux," Jess said without preamble.

Anna's eyes widened at the sudden speech. "I thought something was off, but I had no idea..."

"It's a necklace," Jess continued. "It looks a lot like the magic on Harry's forehead."

"So it's one of Voldemort's?" Anna questioned.

"Most likely," Jess answered. "We need to destroy it."

"How do you propose we do that?" Anna asked.

"With fiendfyre," Jess said, waving her arms up and down. "Then it will go fzzzt and shrivel up."

"I was more thinking, how do we get it away from Narcissa?" Anna said with a quizzical look on her face.

"Well, you could just ask for it, I mean, after all, you do work for the Unspeakables," Jess answered. All the pieces fit in nicely that way.

"Um..." Anna said. Jess had a feeling she was going to throw some unnecessary wrench into the plan. "She doesn't know I'm an unspeakable because we're not allowed to tell people. Also I doubt she would just give it to me."

Okay, that might be a problem. "This could be a mission, and you could make her give it to you," Jess suggested. There, that solved it.

"But if it's a mission, then I have to have the spell up, and she won't trust me," Anna said.

"Hmm, processing. Well, maybe you can tell her mind to give it to you."

"Maybe," Anna answered. "I'll think of something."

"You should see if she has any more while you're there," Jess added. "We think she might have more from some of the wizards who died."

"That's possible," Anna said.

"Oh, and Harry knows about Horcruxes," Jess said. It was something she had been thinking about all day.

"Oh?" Anna replied. "Did Albus talk to him?"

"Well, no, apparently they share dreams sometimes, and Harry learned about them from there," Jess explained.

Anna nodded and silence settled.

After a few moments, Jess said, "Do you have any ideas of how that could be prevented?"

Anna thought for a few moments. "Not offhand, although occluding before going to sleep would be helpful for both of them. I'll think about it, though."

"Right, well I need to go," Jess said. "Don's waiting."

"Okay, see you tomorrow," Anna said.

O o O o O

As the summer waned, preparations for Hogwarts' next school year began. Albus made sure the wards had a roof, and consulted with Curt for other, unfamiliar wards since he was an expert on the subject of obscure magic. As for the forest, he made sure that there was an alarm ward between it and the school grounds, relying on the centaurs to keep the actual forest free.

Harry and Remus spent a lot of time together, just getting to know each other. Remus was constantly astounded at Harry's intellect and grasp of magic, and Harry loved that he was getting to spend time with one of his favorite people. By this time, Harry had gotten used to seeing people that were dead in the alternate timeline, but it was still strange to see Remus. As for his mentor, Provo, the man was a complete unknown. He seemed like a nice guy, if a little spacey, and Hogwarts did let him in, but Harry was hesitant to get to know him.

Harry often caught Provo looking at him with a 'what did I ever do to you?' look, but he left him alone, for which Harry was grateful. He was also grateful for what Remus was learning. Harry had thought Remus tranquil in the past, but he was even more so now. He left for long periods of time to 'practice' (whatever that entailed) but he was always around.

With classes fast approaching, Remus and Provo moved to Hogsmeade. Ironically, Remus had first planned on living in the shrieking shack, but instead, Albus had convinced them to move into one of the apartments above the Three Broomsticks. That way, they could go to the shack to transform and keep the stories of it being haunted alive, but would not attract undue attention by living there.

The term finally started not long after Remus and Provo had settled, and like every year, the firsties were especially curious.

O o O o O

Fredrick was anxious, he would soon be sorted and be one of the many students attending Hogwarts. He had been looking forward to this moment since he had first learned he was a wizard, which was when he was five. He had been hungry and had somehow transfigured a pencil into a long tootsie roll.

Entering the Great Hall with the other first years, his eyes widened. It was even bigger than he had imagined. Focusing his eyes down the length of the hall and up to the front table, he couldn't help but gape slightly.

There they were, just like his father said they would be, the Dumbledores.

He had been told a lot about them and had wondered for the longest time how it would be to meet Harry and his adopted father. Looking up and staring (yes, staring) at them now, they seemed to be two very simple people, if a little eccentric.

Before he knew it, his name was called and his head was under the sorting hat.

'Interesting . . . yes, you would do quite well there,' the hat said in his head.

'Huh? Where?'

Fredrick blinked, hearing the hat ramble on about how perfect he would be in the house. He had heard good things about all the Houses, but also knew that with the positives there were negatives. He supposed he would be fine in any of them. His parents would be pleased either way.

'Well? Go to your table now, lad. I have sorted you,' the hat told him.

What? When had he said the house's name? Fredrick wondered.

'It's the table right there,' the hat said, mentally pushing him to one of the tables.

'Oh.'

Fredrick hurried to the table, glad no one was laughing at him for the long pause. He supposed they thought he was just surprised to be sorted into that house, though which house he wasn't sure yet.

"Hi, glad you're with us," an older student said. "Gryffindor is the best house!"

Ah, so he was a Gryffindor. Suppose he should have guessed that from the badges.

Fredrick looked back up to the high table as the sorting continued. Harry seemed so small up there surrounded by professors, but he strangely seemed to belong. Fredrick couldn't see his lightning bolt scar from where he was, but he did notice his right hand was out of sight.

Bummer.

"You know, it's not nice to stare," a third year girl said, sitting across from him.

He blushed, a bit ashamed at being caught doing something his parents would have frowned upon.

"Sorry, didn't mean to, I'm just. . . ."

"Curious?" another older student added.

Fredrick nodded.

"Well, why don't you ask one of us who have been here for a while?"

"Oh," Fredrick began, suddenly anxious. "Well, um, what's he like?"

With that, many people put in their two cents.

"Amazingly intelligent."

"A little shy, but always very polite."

"His magic is very strong. Stay away from glass if he becomes upset."

"Why, what happens?"

"It shatters. But the strangest thing is that once he's calmed down again, it goes right back together."

"One of the prefects saw it happen a while back."

"Wow."

By this time, all the other firsties were listening in.

"But what is he like? I mean, does he know how different he is?"

"I think so, but he doesn't flaunt it like you would think someone his age might. He almost seems hesitant at times, but then confident and certain at others."

"Does he really ha—"

"Yes, and it looks just like a lightning bolt. As for his hand. . . ."

"It looks so painful!" a girl cringed. "Poor baby."

"He doesn't like letting people see it. I think he's embarrassed about it."

"Probably doesn't understand why everyone finds it so awesome."

"You said he was smart. How smart?" Fredrick asked curiously. How smart could a six year old be?

"He started reading before he was four. Some say he was reading just after two years old. He's also a fairly good artist, as far as I've heard. And the Headmaster has already been giving him instruction on how to use a wand."

A lot of people gasped at that.

"But my dad said—"

"We know. He doesn't cast anything. Dumbledore's just been showing him how to hold it and wave it around properly. Harry showed some of the Hufflepuff fifth years better ways to wield a wand when dueling."

"Does the Headmaster teach him anything else?"

"Probably. I've heard Harry even has a little desk in the Headmaster's office."

"Aww, that's adorable," a first year girl commented.

"I've heard it is, and that Harry has a love of lemon drops that is equal to the Headmaster's."

"The Headmaster is a little crazy, but very very powerful. And he's smart, and Harry seems to be happy."

"Well, that's the important thing. Sometimes I still can't believe Dumbledore adopted a kid. Granted, it's Harry, but still. I wonder why he took him in."

"He was there that night; maybe he couldn't deal with anyone else raising him after going through that with him."

"That's probably it."

"Have you ever seen them outside of meals?" a fourth year asked, leaning in with a smirk.

A seventh year laughed. "Yeah, sometimes I wonder who the adult is."

"You and the other older students were here when Harry first arrived, right?" another firstie asked.

"Yes, and he was so cute. But he had this maturity about him, well, he still has it actually."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you can see it in his eyes. They look older than they should. Wiser."

"Well, after what he's done and stuff, it's no wonder."

The other kid shrugged.

"So do you really think he's the next Merlin?"

"Yeah? Being raised by Albus Dumbledore and taking out you-know-who. . ."

A fourth year rolled her eyes. "Oh honestly, it's -Voldemort-, technically Riddle. Why are you saying that dumb hyphenated name?"

"Habit."

"Pfft. You're what? Eleven?"

"Twelve."

Several rolled their eyes. "Right."

"So, how are classes here? And the Defense teacher, he's broken the curse?"

"Oh, they're fine, you just have to manage your time well. As for the DADA teacher, he didn't break the curse; Dumbledore did when he updated the wards and improved them. I remember the professors telling us there'd be some changes at the start of the following term. Man, they were right."

"Yeah, the ghosts became stronger, and you've heard about Peeves?"

Fredrick nodded slowly. His father had told him horror stories and had advised him to stay away from the crazy poltergeist.

"He's different. And I heard Dumbledore said that the way he is now is how he was originally. He's playful and kind now, and helps us with the clubs. Have you heard about them? Any house is welcome, and you just have to find one that you're interested in. Sure, he still does pranks, but they're not mean like they used to be, and he's not annoying now."

"Cool."

"But anyway, Professor Bear is a good teacher, just don't fool around in his class. He's pretty laid back, but he takes us learning defense seriously. He stated that Dumbledore gave him the responsibility to teach us how to protect ourselves from less than pleasant wizards and he'll be AK'ed before he allows any of us to graduate ill-prepared for the less than perfect world."

"That's . . . good to know I guess," Fredrick said, looking back up to the Dumbledores.

He watched the Headmaster pile on a scoop of vegetables onto Harry's plate, soon followed by a scoop of chocolate pudding. Harry looked up at his guardian and grinned, before looking down and lifting his fork.

Fredrick noticed Harry used his left hand and that his right was still completely out of sight.

Right as he was about to look at the other Professors, Harry suddenly turned his eyes to him, as if sensing someone was looking at him.

Not knowing what else to do, Fredrick waved and smiled.

That seemed to please Harry, so he put his fork down and returned the wave with his left hand before looking back down at his food.

O o O o O

Unfortunately, two weeks after the Sorting of the newest students of Hogwarts, a hitch in the werewolves' paperwork came up. They had been sent an owl from the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures telling them to meet with one of the secretaries regarding their move. Apparently, one of the 1436 pieces of paper did not have Provo's initials inside the box required, and both Remus and Provo had to go to the Ministry to correct the problem.

Remus knew how the Ministry did things. Both he and Provo were in for a long day, perhaps even several days. Unknown to Remus, Albus and Harry planned to use the time they would be gone to search in Hogsmeade for the perfect birthday gift for him. They knew they may not have another chance when Remus wouldn't be looking.

O o O o O

Remus stared at the woman sitting across the desk. Surely having the tiniest edge of Provo's initials outside the box wasn't reason to call them back to the Ministry. But there she was, sitting smugly in her chair, pointing out the error, her portraits of kittens watching them with an air of superiority.

"But my initials are there," Provo tried to explain.

She cleared her throat with a soft, "hem hem." If they were required to stay here much longer, that would surely get annoying. "As you can see, it plainly says to initial 'in the box.'" She pointed a short finger to the directions. "If you can't even follow instructions while filling out a little paperwork, then we cannot have you stay here. The Ministry is much too lax in its treatment of your kind."

Remus felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. She didn't have the authority to send them back, did she? They had been there a month and a half with no incident! They had to protect Harry!

"Look, Miss Umbridge," Provo began, "what do we need to do to fix this problem and stay here?"

He was much calmer than Remus was. Obviously he had dealt with people like this before.

Miss Umbridge smiled, as a toad who had just spotted her fly.

O o O o O

Harry looked up at Albus who was holding his left hand. Oh, he was so grateful to be out of Hogwarts! Not that he hated the castle or anything; it was just being confined to the castle for so long was enough to make any self-respecting six-year-old go bonkers.

But this was not just any venture outside the castle, this was a quest. Because Remus and Provo had been called to go to the Ministry, this gave Harry and Albus the perfect opportunity to buy Remus a birthday present. His birthday was in the following week and they had been hard pressed to find a chance to get a gift for him since he insisted on being with Harry nearly all the time in case of an attack.

Harry shook his head. He understood their protectiveness, but really. He wasn't a baby; after all, he'd blocked how many killing curses now?

Jess, as she said she would, was shadowing them, just in case any assassins happened to find them despite their disguises and precautions.

Curt was also in Hogsmeade, though his primary reason for being there involved getting materials rather than escorting.

"Where are we going to go first, Papa?" Harry asked, brushing his brown hair out of his face.

Albus had insisted on making them look as ordinary as possible. Albus had light brown eyes and a short brown beard. His robes were also fairly plain, which was especially difficult for Albus to endure. Harry wondered if he was somehow addicted to bright colors and was currently suffering through withdrawal, though, he had to admit, he himself was missing his own charmed robes. . . .

He blamed it on his childish side.

"I told Rosmerta we would visit her first," Dumbledore explained, leading them to The Three Broomsticks. "Then we shall go and find Remus' gift, and we might get something for Fawkes. I'm thinking of a yellow mini scarf. He often complains to me how cold he is after his burning day. Ash, apparently, only does so much."

"Okay!" Harry said, hopping up and down.

Fawkes had just burned that morning, and was currently huddled in a pile of ash under his perch beside Albus' desk. It would be a week before he would no longer be helpless.

Jess stayed along the street, watching them approach The Three Broomsticks. She took the time to scan the area, which, as always, was swarming with magic. At times, it was difficult to stay focused on what she was doing. It was all so mesmerizing. Her eyes went back to Harry and Dumbledore, the magic of their disguises radiating off of them with their natural auras like flames. She looked ahead of them, settling on the door to the bar."What the—"There was a ward of some kind on the door. She had seen wards across doors of shops before, deterring thieves and the like, but she had never seen one like this used before. An upgraded one perhaps? But, no . . . something wasn't quite right. . . .

She hurried forward, now just feet away from Dumbledore.

"Stop!" she shouted, but it was too late, part of Dumbledore's frame crossed the boundary despite her hand taking hold of his shoulder.

It was clear he had noticed something was off himself just as she grabbed his shoulder but had reacted too late as his and Harry's glamours fell, exposing their identities for all to see.

Jess yanked them back, quickly realizing this was a trap before a feeling she would later only be able to describe as pure negative energy exploded to their right. All she could see was a void in that area before it flashed white.

The following events occurred in a span of fifteen seconds, though it felt much longer to those present.

A loud fizzling sound bombarded them, seemingly from all sides, and the few people near the blast were immediately screaming. Jess felt her magic protest strongly, growing hot and angry as she turned to suddenly see half a dozen darts flying toward the Dumbledores.

Magic darts. She could see magical residue on them. Portkeys.

Acting instinctively, she rushed forward, waving her wand forward and batting the darts away with a pulse of chaotic magic, however, it was not enough, and one was on a direct path to Dumbledore.

"Crap!"

She saw a dart slide past the hovering crate and just reacted. Her hand went out, snatching the metal dart from the air before it could strike Dumbledore.

She disappeared, leaving everything she had on her behind.

O o O o O

Remus ran his hand through his hair. In the last few hours, he had decided this woman was the devil incarnate. And an utter moron. Why would she want to get two werewolves riled up? Ordinarily, people didn't want to mess with werewolves, but this Delores Umbridge seemed to thrive on it.

Provo had theorized that she knew that if they did anything, she would then have grounds to file for their extermination. The Ministry had assassins for that sort of thing. It made sense, in a twisted sort of way. Remus took a deep breath as he turned to the next page. Delores had made them fill out all of the paperwork in regards to their move to England again, as well as new papers about refilling out paperwork. The experience was becoming a nightmare.

Remus knew that if he could keep calm and polite through this, he could be calm anywhere, which was the first step to controlling the wolf. The wolf inside was begging to kill the frumpy pink toady. He mentally told himself to focus on the paperwork.

Hopefully Harry was okay without him. Surely he would be, as he was at Hogwarts with Albus.

O o O o O

Dumbledore caught her sudden departure from the corner of his eye as he blocked another dart with a precise flick of his wand, transfiguring it into a lollipop. He then sent several stunners toward one of roofs where the darts were coming from in rapid succession, taking the assassin with the darts out. Albus was a bit ticked.

Shoppers fled the area, immediately thinking this was a death eater attack. It was utter chaos.

"Stay behind me, Harry!" Albus ordered just before several orbs landed on the street.

Dumbledore's eyes widened, recognizing the spheres for what they were and realizing one of them had caused the explosion moments before.

Anti-magic grenades. They had been used a great deal in the future, and they had left behind great devastation. They released a pulse that canceled out all magic it came in contact with. A wizard within the zone had a fair chance of becoming a muggle, if they were lucky.

"INSIDE!!!" Dumbledore bellowed, diving inside the bar with Harry.

Rolling along the floor, Dumbledore went to one knee and threw a table toward the door, dousing it with as much magic as he could spare in that instant, hoping it would be enough to consume the incoming field.

It almost was.

Harry dashed forward, bringing his arms around himself as he resorted to the last defense they discovered they had with this sort of attack. Imagining himself as a bomb, he pulled as much magic to his center as quickly as he could before slamming it out in front of him.

The magic and anti-magic met, the left over magic from Harry ramming him back, causing him to graze past tables and chairs before hitting the edge of the long counter of the bar.

"What's happening!?" Rosmerta cried from behind the bar, a half a dozen hysterical people clamoring about the tables as several more explosions were heard from outside.

"Stay down, Rosmerta!" Albus shouted, his attention on the doorway. "And watch for darts, they're portkeys!"

"Papa!" Harry shouted, just as three dark forms in the bar rose out of the panicking mass, blades in hand.

"Deflect this, brat!" the closest to him growled, advancing with inhuman speed, a red gleam in his eyes.

The other two vanished in a flash of smoke, before reappearing somewhere Harry could not see. He heard Albus casting and felt his emotions of alarm and anger bleeding through their bond.

With no time to do anything else, Harry threw his hands up protectively at the first attacker, wishing, not for the first time, he had a wand.

He felt the man's weight come upon him, crashing him to the floor as his eyes caught the glare from the blade. Looking up, he saw much too long fangs slide across the man's bottom lip.

Vampire.

"How does it feel knowing you're about to die?" the immortal asked.

"Harry!" Albus shouted desperately, clearly trying to fight his way to him.

Harry's pulse rate spiked as the vampire shifted, the blade rushing down at his throat.

A feeling took a hold of him in that moment, a feeling he was quite familiar with, actually. The feeling one felt when they faced their mortality, their likely end, their coming death.

But then it shifted. Shifted to what he had only briefly felt thrice before, each time knowingly taking on the killing curse and surviving. Only this time, he was embraced by this feeling completely, covered by a feeling of almost overwhelming protectiveness as he heard what he could only describe as a distant wispy voice in his mind.

"_Not here. Not now_."

His right hand was suddenly free, shooting out from under the heavy vampire and taking hold of the sharp blade, wrenching it away from his throat just in time. The blade easily sliced into his scarred palm, but Harry didn't even feel it, for there was something he was feeling that was much more intense.

Harry couldn't help but gasp as his magic roared from his center, the vampire's eyes widening in disbelief as he once again heard the far off voice.

"_Be gone._"

A green pulse of light exploded from his bloody hand, the knife flying off to land and skid across the floor. His vision blurred for a long moment, the sound of people casting, cursing, and fighting being drowned out by the rushing sound in his mind . . . all the while, the bond dwindled.

"_Be still. You have nothing to fear. Be still._"

Harry blacked out.

O o O o O

"You animals! Behave now, or I will deport you myself!" Delores Umbridge screamed at Remus and Provo. Remus immediately stopped laughing. Provo had just told a joke involving their current captor and a posse of well trained squirrels. It hadn't even been that funny, but laughing was a release from the built up tension from the day. "Apparently you are not even civilized enough to wait without showing your barbaric nature," she said, somehow looking down her nose at them despite her short stature.

With a flick of her wand, all extraneous material had been removed from the room. All that remained was Remus, Provo, and a stack of parchment waiting to be filled out. As Remus opened his mouth to ask how she expected them to write without a table, she handed them quills and said, "If you are going to act like animals, then you can fill out paperwork like animals."

"Um, when do animals fill out paperwork?" Remus asked, despite Provo shaking his head.

"They are right now," Delores answered with an evil smile. It was a good thing Ministry officials had confiscated their wands, because Remus really wanted to hex her.

He bent over the new stack of paperwork and started writing his name at the top. Immediately, pain flared in his hand, and the words he was writing appeared on his skin. The ink from the pen flowed dark red. A blood quill, Remus recognized. He glanced up at Provo. Provo was staring at his own hand.

If it wasn't for Harry and needing to be near him, Remus would have quit right there. Surely the Ministry wouldn't approve of such a dark object being used. Although, perhaps they knew and didn't care, since Remus and Provo were outside the Ministry protection as so called 'dark creatures.'

Remus grit his teeth. If he wrote quickly enough, he could finish the stack before he lost enough blood to pass out. It would be close, though. Provo met his glance, and Remus saw the same determination in his eyes.

Delores Umbridge would not win.

O o O o O

Curt knelt behind an overturned table, shooting spells at one of the vampires on Albus. A third was advancing toward Harry, but Curt couldn't reach him at the moment. The fight had begun with Albus banishing a table at nothing, then Harry doubling over before screaming and throwing out his arms at the doorway. Now there were vampires.

All Curt had wanted was a bottle of firewhisky.

Where was Jess? She was supposed to be tailing the Dumbledores. Maybe that's how Albus knew the darts were portkeys. He admonished himself to focus. The closest vampire stepped into Curt's line of view.

That'll work.

Curt smiled grimly as he cast a curse of his own creation. Grim Revenge, he called it. The vampire screamed as her own hand ripped off, still holding her sword.

Curt hit the vampire with a tripping hex as the hand took on a grotesque appearance and swung the sword back at its former body. The vampire used the second of her dual swords to fight it off, but she was losing. He had no reservations about cursing a female like that, especially as these were extreme circumstances and any hesitation or mercy would bring about unhappy consequences.

Curt nodded, knowing that the vampire would be occupied for some time with the newly liberated hand. He glanced first at Albus, who was nearest, but Albus seemed to be holding his own. He turned to help Harry.

"Harry!" Albus shouted.

A vampire was on top of Harry with a knife. As Curt brought his wand up, Harry grabbed the knife with his bare right hand. Curt could barely make out anything as a brilliant green light exploded forth, forcing the knife away. The vampire's eyes widened for a split second before he crumpled, landing limply on Harry, clearly dead. The vampire was already beginning to shrivel.

As much as he wanted to make sure Harry was all right, Curt knew that if they didn't take care of the other vampires, it wouldn't matter. He brought his wand to the vampire he had shot before, noting that the hand was gone. Apparently the vampire had had a stroke of genius and thrown a dart at the hand.

Well, at least she was crippled now. Curt cast another curse before the vampire could go after anyone else, and the vampire responded in kind. Eyes filled with hatred, she sent curse after curse, before dodging around a table and skidding across the floor. The vampire seemed to have had a target in mind, though Curt couldn't see anyone in the area. Curt was tempted to cast Grim Revenge again, but that took a lot out of him, and there were other spells that could kill more easily. They just weren't as fun.

Curt flung a table in front of him to block a curse, then with another spell, ripped off one of the legs. Now he had a stake, and all he had to do was hit it through the vampire's heart. He switched his wand to his left hand so his right could do the throwing.

Curt saw the vampire's eyes widen as the splintery piece of wood flew straight for its heart. It vanished with a crack just before the hurled stake would have hit.

Wise choice. Curt looked around, but the vampire didn't reappear. Judging by the sound of that crack, the vampire was no longer in this town.

Curt turned, only to witness a body he immediately identified as a vampire get ruthlessly bashed onto the floor, an utterly furious Dumbledore just beyond. Albus was covered in blood, a long bleeding cut on the side of his head trailing down to his cheek, but none of that seemed to matter. A split second later, Albus was rushing toward Harry, his eyes alone telling Curt how worried and afraid he was.

"Harry!" he gasped as he unceremoniously threw the dead, shriveled vampire off of Harry with barely a glance around the bar. He pulled Harry to himself and cupped his little cheek with his large bloody hand.

"Oh my!" Rosmerta managed.

"How is he?" Curt asked, suddenly very concerned as he noticed Dumbledore's hands were shaking and his eyes had filled with tears.

Albus suddenly sucked in a quavering breath, calming slightly. "The bond's back," he managed, beyond relieved, hugging Harry.

If the bond had broken, that meant Harry was much closer to death than Curt had first thought.

"Get back to Hogwarts, **now**," Curt commanded. He looked around again, but still didn't see Jess.

Man, Don was NOT going to be happy.

O o O o O

* * *

Coming soon: _Rescue_


	19. Rescue

Disclaimer: Really? We don't own this? Are you sure? Darn, must have been a dream then.

* * *

**Part 19: Rescue**

Don was pacing. Jess had gone to escort the Dumbledores in Hogsmeade, and even though she could take care of herself, the thought that something might happen to her was worrisome. He checked his watch.

It was nowhere near time for her to be back, but it was almost time for her to check in.

Don continued pacing.

Suddenly, the sound of a door slamming rang through the office. Don raced out of his office, wand drawn.

It was Curt, out of breath, his scruffy hair mussed to one side with blood covering his shoulder. Jess was not with him.

"Where-is-my-wife?" Don demanded.

Other office doors were just now opening, and some of the others were peeking out. David walked toward them.

"I don't know," Curt said. He held up a plastic bag with darts inside. "She touched one of these, and they're portkeys. We can trace them to find out where she is."

"I've got a better idea," Don said as he yanked the bag from Curt's hand.

He reached in and grabbed a dart.

And was suddenly in a dark, enclosed place, with no wand, no knives, no guns, no potions, no poisons, no portkeys, and least importantly, no clothes.

"Aw, Crap."

He opened his hand, seeing the only thing that had traveled with him. The dart. _Well, that can do some damage,_ he thought. He looked to the door, crouched and ready for whatever would come through.

O o O o O

Jess looked down at herself, feeling much lighter and cooler than she should be.

"Oh, someone is going to die," she stated, finding nothing but her birthday suit and the dart. "But first," she said, raising her free hand and pressing her thumb and forefinger together and bringing her hand straight down, her wand appearing as she did so, very much like a certain fairy godmother.

Taking hold of her wand, she quickly conjured a toga, just as someone jiggled the handle before swinging the door open.

"I am naked for only one person, and he's not you!" Jess shouted before the unfortunate captor caught the dart with his eye.

His cry was short lived as his body immediately went limp. Jess saw a black mass swim from the dart and flow through his form. It reminded her of what she had seen not long before coming to this dreadful place.

Stepping toward the door, she looked down at the man again, quickly realizing he wasn't dead, yet, that is. His other eye was swiveling about, terrified, before becoming still and focusing on her.

"Before I leave, let me ask you, what if Dumbledore had shown up instead of me? Surely you weren't wanting to see _that_!"

Shaking her head, she silently went past him and entered the damp hallway.

O o O o O

Remus conjured a bandage for his hand, Provo doing the same. He would ask Madame Pomfrey for a blood replenishing potion before meeting Albus and Harry for dinner, but there was no reason for Albus to know what transpired. He was there to keep Harry safe, and didn't want to cause either of them grief.

Remus and Provo apparated to the edge of the Hogwarts boundary. Dizzy from the loss of blood, he leaned against a tree until the spell passed. Provo teetered on his feet, but didn't fall over. Werewolves were made of stern stuff.

Walking slowly up to the castle, Remus noted that class must be in session. He saw no children on the grounds, which was probably best as they really didn't need the attention that they as strangers would surely get. They made it to the infirmary, only having to pause twice to lean against walls in the castle. Had they not been werewolves, they might not have made it without passing out. It was the first time Remus had ever been glad for the wolf within, as Provo called it.

Pomfrey came out of her office as the door chimed to announce their entry. "Hello, Remus, can I help you?" She spoke in the brisk manner Remus had come to know when he was in school. She had been around during the summer, so she knew he was staying in Hogsmeade.

"We could use blood replenishing potions, actually," Remus said bluntly.

Immediately her wand came up and she was shooing them to beds. She clicked her tongue as she waved her wand and gathered their status. She accioed two potions and demanded that they drink them, even though that was what they had asked for. Remus smiled as he drank his. She hadn't changed much.

O o O o O

CRASH!

Curt stood staring at where Don had been just a second before. He stretched his arms out at the pile of noisy and apparently heavy stuff left behind, his mouth involuntarily opening in shock.

"Wow, he had all this stuff in his pockets?" Anna asked, bending over the mound of assorted weapons and poisons.

"He really should invest in a bag of holding," David commented.

"What the hell, Don?" Curt demanded when his voice returned to him. He looked up to the rest of the unspeakables who had gathered. "I said we could trace them! Seth, do you still have that thing you made for catching bugs?"

"I gave it to you," Seth answered. "Remember, you had that bat in your office..."

"Oh yeah," Curt said as he hurried to his office and opened the door. Now, remembering where it was in the explosion of stuff was another thing entirely.

He passed through the piles and picked one at random. Hearing the others come to the door, he said, "Help me out here," and gestured to the rest of the office.

Seth, Anna, Colin, and David jumped right in, each picking a different area of the room. Rita still stood at the door, eyebrows raised at the sight. "What exactly are we looking for?" she asked incredulously. It was easy to see she didn't think they would find it.

"A bug zapper," Seth answered. "It's about a foot tall, with a light in it. It won't be turned on, though."

Rita didn't answer but turned to the nearest pile and looked it over.

Curt was plowing through his section. Not it, not it, not it, not it. Heeey, a Dumbledore action figure complete with phrases! What was that doing on the floor! It was a collector's item. He gently set it on the desk next to the Grindelwald figure. In the next few seconds, he remembered why he had moved them away from each other as they began fighting, shooting light at each other and running into objects. No wonder his office was cluttered. He ignored them and went back to looking for the zapper.

"Really, Curt?" Colin questioned sarcastically, "a Wizard Baruffio action figure?"

"Well, it completed the set," Curt said defensively as the action figure began his one catchphrase.

"Remember your pronunciation!" it said in a very shrill voice.

"Here it is," David said. Curt looked back to see David pulling the zapper from under a cardboard box.

"So what are we using that for?" Rita questioned.

"We can use the zapper to break down the components of the dart," Curt answered as he put on a glove and pulled one of the darts from the bag. "Then we just put a tracker on it and when the magic goes 'home' we follow it."

"What?" Rita asked.

Curt gave her the short answer as Seth carefully started up the bug zapper on steroids, as he called it. "A portkey is programmed with magic to go to a specific place, right?"

Rita nodded.

"Well, in order to do that, ambient magic is taken from the place it connects to and is put in the object," Curt explained as he handed Seth another glove. "With a tracker that can follow specific magic, we can break a portkey and track that magic back to where it came from. That's where the zapper comes in. It breaks things down to their most basic components, which will release the magic."

"Hand me a dart," Seth said, holding out a gloved hand. Curt carefully picked up a dart and handed it to Seth, making sure not to prick him. "Have you got a tracker?"

"I do," David said as he pulled one out of his pocket.

"Why do you have that with you?" Anna asked.

David shrugged. "You never know when you'll have to track something." He handed the tracker to Curt, who calibrated it to the magic contained in the dart.

"Ready," Curt said.

Seth nodded and tossed the dart at the zapper. It disappeared, and the tracker began beeping as the magic left the RDHPIT.

"Gotcha," Curt said with satisfaction.

O o O o O

The Master had entrusted the final preparations with him, Brutus, and he was certain his precautions were more than adequate for the job, even if the old coot was one of the targets.

And now his trap had worked; he knew because the little alarm in his pocket told him one of the portkeys had activated. Ingenious really, making the darts portkeys. He didn't understand why such a method was scarcely used. It's not like those they transported would be able to fight after the poison entered them from the sharp point of the dart. They would be paralyzed.

The other thing he didn't quite understand was all the fuss about making sure this was right if they had a group of vampires on their side. Yeah, sure, the whole thing at the Ministry proved they weren't invincible, but they had been ill-prepared, overconfident, and outnumbered.

Oh! Now two, perhaps they had gotten both Dumbledores. That would be impressive; surely their Master would be impressed with their work and his plan.

"AH-!"

Brutus jumped, startled upon hearing the clearly just cut off shout echo down the hall and into his office. Getting up from his chair, he pulled out his wand, swearing if it was one of the new recruits playing around they would learn what true pain was. Opening the door, he briefly wondered why the hall was darker than usual. He stepped out into the corridor.

He paused. Something wasn't quite right with this. The new recruits were dumb, and a little annoying, but they wouldn't be up to doing something, well, so creepy. His eyes narrowed. Someone was here who shouldn't be.

"_Gah_-gr. . ."

That didn't sound good.

_Twamp! Thud-crack._

Brutus didn't know what that was, but he thought it sounded like a bone breaking. He cautiously went forward.

"_Diffindo_!" he shouted, aiming at a silhouette he could barely make out standing over a crumpled form.

The form batted it aside, as if they were bored.

"If that's the best you can do, I suggest you run," he snarled.

"It's not, so if you would care to tell me why you are here, I might not kill you," Brutus said.

"Is that so?" the man said, his tall form for some reason more daunting than before. "Well, then, I propose you either, a, get out of my way, or b, tell me where a woman about this tall is." He raised his hand to just below his shoulder.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you are talking about and that I can't let you continue on your way."

"It was nice talking to you."

The next and last thing Brutus saw was the man's arm blur and something fly from his hand. He faintly recognized the object flying at him as a dart.

Then, cold death.

O o O o O

Professor Michael Bear escorted the first year down the hall. His first year DADA class had just ended, and this young boy, Frederick, had somehow made his tripping hex explosive. Luckily, Michael always made them practice on dummies before letting them hex each other, so only Frederick was hurt. By the boy's nonchalant attitude to having something explode in his face, Michael got the feeling that he would be escorting him to the infirmary a lot.

The halls were crowded, but most of the students got out of the way when they saw a professor towing a hurt first year behind. Frederick smiled at the attention he was getting, with so many of the girls saying 'oh my!'

Professor Bear stopped as the bodies in the hall became too tight. "Excuse us," he said, gently pushing through, making sure Frederick was with him. As he made his way down the hall, he noticed students staring in one direction, trying to see over each other's heads.

"What's going on?" Frederick asked.

"It's the Headmaster and his son," a fifth year answered. "They're covered in blood!"

Professor Bear immediately walked faster, tugging Frederick behind him. Students got out of his way the best they could. Suddenly, he saw them.

The fifth year had been right. Albus had blood on his face and was carrying Harry, whose hand was wrapped in a bloody bandage. Albus looked a little lost, but was slowly walking in the direction of the infirmary. To Michael, it seemed as if Albus was having to fight to carry out every step.

The students parted, clearing a path and staring fixedly at Albus and Harry.

Immediately, Michael joined them.

"Almost there," Michael said, now actually guiding Albus in the right direction. "Just one more hallway." He could hear the students speculating in whispers behind them.

In different circumstances, he would have turned around and chided them for staring, but he knew it wouldn't help anyone, so he continued doing what he was doing.

Fredrick, still sporting damage to his face, followed closely behind, shocked into silence.

"Thanks," Albus said heavily, just as Minerva and Filius emerged from the slowly retreating but gawking students.

McGonagall shooed them away as she made it to Albus' other side. Flitwick continued to guide the students away, rightfully assuming he could best aid in the whole situation by reining them back.

"Albus, what in Merlin's name happened?" McGonagall asked, placing a gentle hand on one of Harry's legs, which were draped over Albus' arm.

Albus didn't answer as they entered the infirmary, but shut his eyes briefly as if pushing back a painful sensation or emotion.

"Hello," Madame Pomfrey said, turning from her examination of two men Michael recognized as Harry's American uncles. "How can I – goodness!" she exclaimed as she took in the sight before her. She immediately pulled down the covers on one of the beds. "Put that child here," she commanded, before she thrust her wand at Albus. "And you sit down." She looked at Michael and Frederick. "You, sit here." She pointed at Frederick and gestured him to a bed.

She seemed to have the energy of three people as she somehow simultaneously took readings from Harry, closed the gash on Albus' face, and smeared cooling cream on Frederick's cheek. As if that were not enough, she peppered Albus with questions about what had happened and admonished Frederick on the dangers of modifying hexes.

"We were in Hogsmeade," Albus answered tiredly, though stubbornly sitting on the side of Harry's bed and not on the bed Pomfrey had directed him to. Madame Pomfrey passed him a pepper up potion. As the smoke cleared from his ears, Albus answered more steadily, though he blinked a few times and shook himself before continuing. "We were attacked again by the vampires."

McGonagall had a hand over her mouth in horror as he continued.

"There were three of them this time, and they were shooting portkey darts at us."

At this, Michael heard a growl from the next bed. "Where are they? How dare they attack you!" one of the men jumped up and demanded. The other stood but let the first talk.

Albus shook his head. "There's nothing you can do, Remus. Two are already dead and the other apparated away."

Remus ran his hand through his hair. "Why were you out of the castle without some sort of guard? That's why Provo and I came here, to protect Harry! How is he?"

"He'll be fine," Madame Pomfrey answered. "You two need to sit down or you'll pass out."

Albus raised his eyebrow. "What happened to you two?"

"Never mind that," Remus answered quickly. "You didn't answer my question."

The other man, Provo, put a hand on Remus' shoulder. "Calm down, Remus," he said evenly. "Everyone is fine now. There's no reason to get worked up."

Remus took several deep breaths, but still looked to Albus for answers.

Michael noticed Frederick's wide eyes taking in the conversation and cleared his throat. "We may want to discuss this somewhere else," he pointed out.

"Oh, I won't say anything," Frederick answered quickly. "You can't leave me hanging like that."

"Mr. Hammel!" Minerva chided. "This is not story time! The Headmaster and his son were just ruthlessly attacked!"

She was about to rebuke him further when they heard a childish mumble.

"What was that?" Madame Pomfrey asked softly, leaning over Harry. Remus hurried over, while Albus shifted closer and took Harry's good hand. Minerva remained where she was, but her face had greatly softened.

"I'm not scared," Harry mumbled again.

Pure relief flooded Albus' haggard face. "Of course not, my boy. You are very brave."

"Where did she go?" Harry asked, looking at the concerned faces peering down at him.

"Who, Harry?" Remus asked.

"I dunno," he slurred. "She tol' me not to be afraid. To be still." He blinked and focused on Albus, narrowing his eyes and becoming very serious. "Papa, get Sev. Something's wrong." His eyes closed.

Everyone looked to Madame Pomfrey, though with varying expressions. They were all of course concerned about Harry, but they found Harry's last words alarming. What was wrong, and get who?

"He's asleep," Poppy explained as Albus released Harry's hand with a frown. Pomfrey looked on with concern as she noticed how pale his cheeks were becoming and how sweat was gathering on his wrinkled brow. He appeared to be worse than when he had first come in. Harry was right. Something was wrong. "Albus?"

"Fidget!" Albus called, his voice laced with an utmost urgency as Pomfrey began muttering diagnosis charms under her breath on Albus.

-Pop-

"What cans Fidget do for Master?" he asked with a bow, though looking back up at Dumbledore, his eyes widened in worry.

"Go to Master Flamel and tell him I need him and his apprentice. I am now certain there was something on that blade. I can fe—" Albus' eyes widened, and to the few who knew him they identified the emotion as fear.

He stood up and went for his wand, but before he could, he stumbled.

Attempting to stay on his feet, he braced his arm against the empty bed beside him.

"Get behind me," he stated, bringing up his wand to point at seemingly nothing as his legs gave out completely and his arms fell limply by his sides.

Had it not been for Michael and Remus, he would have hit the floor.

"Albus!" McGonagall cried.

-Pop-

The house elf vanished as Michael and Remus immediately placed Albus onto the vacant bed beside Harry's. His face was now white and his eyes were barely open.

"No. . . _don't_. . ." he rasped as his eyes rolled back.

The most powerful wizard alive succumbed to unconsciousness, and all they could do was look on as Poppy frantically waved her wand over the man.

"What's wrong with him?!" Fredrick asked, terrified.

"Michael?" McGonagall motioned.

Michael gave a nod and quickly led the Gryffindor out of the infirmary.

O o O o O

Jess was annoyed, well, actually she was a bit more than annoyed. Who did these people think they were? And who on earth designed this place?! It was horrible! And their choice in architecture was horrid. Why did all the walls have to look the same? And what moron made the doors open that way? It went against every sensible building code for doors!

And these people really needed to learn to clean, or at least sweep once a lifetime. Some corners were even too dirty for spiders. The moment she got out of that place, she would take five hundred showers to get all the filth off of her.

And was that the same spider sac she had seen earlier?

Blast.

She was lost.

Well, at least she prevented the Dumbledores from being taken into this place. Just the thought of Harry being trapped down here. . . .

Her eyes narrowed and her hand tightened around her wand. Better not think about such things. Might just take it out on the next captor she happened upon.

Suddenly, she heard noises, and if she was hearing them correctly, they sounded like distant screams.

"What the—"

She headed toward the troubling sounds.

O o O o O

A falcon circled an old shack on the outskirts of London. Magically protected from muggles, the shack almost glowed with magic to those who knew where to look. Luckily, Colin, in his falcon form, knew where to look, thanks to the tracker they had employed. Colin made one last circle, noting the defenses in place. He turned off to return to Curt and David, whose animagus forms were unfortunately without wings.

"Only two guards, but the place is warded as all get out," Colin reported quietly, once he was back in human form and reunited with the others.

"Any clue on what wards?" Curt asked, a map of the area spread in front of him.

Colin shook his head. "Other than an obvious muggle repelling charm, I don't know for sure." Wards were not his specialty, but he could make a few guesses. "Most likely there's an anti-apparation ward. Maybe some kind of modified anti-portkey ward as well, probably like the one at RDHPIT."

Curt nodded. "Right, that makes sense." He made a few annotations on the map. Colin recognized it as one of Curt's works. The man had maps of nearly every area lived in by wizards in Great Britain.

"They probably have traps all over as well," David put in. "I know I'd have a butt-ton of them at my secret hideout."

"Riiight," Curt drawled, thinking. "Well, Colin, did you at least notice where the guards were?"

"That, I can help you with," Colin answered. "The guards were patrolling back and forth across the front door. I'm guessing they assume the back to be safe from invasion because of the wards and traps. Also, the only door is on the front, and all of the windows are boarded up."

"All right," Curt said, marking the location of the guards and rolling up the map. "Let's go around back. David, you're in front to check for traps." David saluted. "Colin, you keep your eyes on the guards and let us know if they change position."

"Right-o," Colin answered. He transformed into the falcon and once again circled the hideout. The hired goons kept their position in front of the door. Idiots. What kind of invasion force ever came through the front door?

Colin circled around back, watching his cohorts. David was carefully picking a path in the back, keeping a low profile. Curt was following behind, a little less stealthily, wand out. They hadn't yet reached the edge of the property, where wards would be legal to place. Of course, this was an illegal group of vampires, so Curt and David were proceeding slowly. Colin circled to the front. After all, he was supposed to keep an eye on the guards.

Something didn't seem quite right with them. They were shuffling around, pacing a little, talking softly. In short, they weren't behaving at all like vampires. Colin landed on a tree branch just outside the property line. Vampires, at least in Colin's experience, tended to stand so still they could be statues. They didn't speak unless necessary, and one would think they would guard the whole place. These two guards didn't even seem to think a falcon was out of order.

Well, whatever the reason for the guards' inattentiveness, Colin decided to go around back again and see if Curt and David needed help.

Crap! A whole section of the ground had fallen away. David looked to have just barely leapt away in time, and was brushing off his robes. Curt had his map open and was diligently marking the spot where the trap occurred. David cautiously stepped around the gaping hole, causing another on the other side of him to fall away. He kept himself upright and reached the property line. Curt stowed his map and shook his head at the remaining thin strip of ground. Then he waved his wand over himself and slowly floated to the other side. Once there, he and David examined the ground.

Colin decided to check if the traps had triggered any type of response from the guards. As he flew around front, he noticed the two standing in the same place as before. He again got the feeling that something was off. He circled around a few times, watching Curt and David fiddling with the property line, watching the guards.

He suddenly realized what was wrong with the guards. They were patrolling in the exact same pattern every time. There seemed to be no variation in the ground they covered or the way they faced. Colin knew there were a few reasons why this could be. The guards could be an illusion, which didn't make much sense, they could be animated objects fashioned to look like people, or this could be something he had never seen before.

Flying closer to take a better look was unwise, as the wards might trigger him as more than a bird. That could blow the whole operation. The best he could think to do was to alert the others that something was up with the guards. He flew closer to relay that thought.

"Ah HA!" Curt exclaimed, albeit in a whisper, as he stood from kneeling. "That should do it."

The shack and the area around it changed to show a small, sturdy, stone building. Two trenches had been dug around it, and for a moment, the very air crackled with magic.

"Hey, that's not like the map at all!" Curt said in frustration as he glanced from the map, which clearly showed a tiny shack on a hill, to what was now revealed.

"An illusionary ward," David said, rubbing his chin, "interesting."

Colin changed back to his own body and stood with the two of them. "So what was the purpose of that, then?" he asked.

"I don't know!" Curt exclaimed, furiously checking the map, "but I can tell you that they are getting all kinds of cited for not filing for a remodeling."

"That and they've kidnapped Ministry workers," David pointed out.

"Yeah, that too," Curt said.

"Well, onward?" Colin asked.

"Yeah, that took care of all of the wards," Curt answered. "We've just got to worry about traps and vampires."

"I wonder why no one's guarding it," David mused, "or why no one has come out, even though we triggered a trap and took down their wards."

A door opened, and someone in a mask peeked around the edge. Immediately, Colin, Curt, and David had their wands trained on him.

"Don't give us any trouble, and we'll let you live," Colin said. "Just tell us where the prisoners are."

The masked man closed the door behind him and started walking forward, empty hands raised. "I surrender, I surrender!" he shouted as he started making his way toward them. "The way to the door is clear, and I can tell you where the prisoners are. Just don't kill me!"

BOOM!

The door exploded outward, giant splinters of wood and rock flying into the back of the masked man. Colin threw up a shield, noticing Curt and David doing the same thing. "What the hell?!" Curt exclaimed. The man who had moments before tried to surrender was now prone with a chunk of wood sticking out of his back. Colin moved to one side, trying to see through the dust cloud.

"Get the hell out of my way, you bastards!" a familiar voice shouted. Don?

"Don, it's us! We're here to rescue you!" David shouted.

"Did you find Jess?" Curt questioned.

"How do I know you aren't a trick?" Don's voice asked as the dust cleared. Don and Jess, both wearing togas, stood in the doorway, wands drawn. Don held one of the darts in his hand.

"Don, it's them," Jess said as she lowered her wand. "Thank goodness!"

Don stared at them for a few moments, then he too let down his wand. "You're a bit late," he said sarcastically as he and Jess walked to them. "And just so you know we're us," he pointed to Curt, "you still have those muggle comic books you borrowed from Stan in school." He gestured to Colin. "You have a poster of muggle space flyers in your office." He turned to David. "And you have a stash of liquid luck taped to the underside of one of the toilet tank lids."

Yup, that was Don all right. And he would definitely know that Jess was Jess. Colin and the others holstered their wands.

"Colin, you take Jess and Don back to headquarters," Curt said. "David and I will make one final sweep and contact the aurors. Anything we need to know?"

"Um, well, everyone's dead," Don said, holding up the dart and looking pensive. "There's something on this dart that makes anyone pricked become paralyzed. There was what looked like an office, but we didn't linger there. Oh yes, and they weren't vampires, they were humans."

"Humans?" David questioned. "That's interesting."

"Yeah, that's what made them so easy to kill," Don put in.

"Right, we'll go over all of that when we have the briefing," Curt said. "For now, David and I just need the information to thoroughly search the place."

Colin pulled the portkey they had prepared from his robe, and beckoned to Jess and Don. As they touched the spool of yarn, Colin said the magic word, "Office." They appeared in the holding room at RDHPIT.

O o O o O

"You failed," the master stated in a low voice. "Again."

The vampire, Vanessa, clenched her jaw, though she kept her head bowed. As much as it frustrated her to bow to a mere human, this one demanded respect, so she gave it, if only outwardly. She could feel the anger radiating off her leader as the human twirled a wand with a perfectly manicured hand as if taunting her. Until she perfected swordplay with her remaining hand, she was next to useless.

"Not entirely," Vanessa answered.

"Then why are my enemies not cowed in front of me?" the master demanded, hands outstretched over the space in front of Vanessa.

Vanessa felt her lip curl as she raised her eyes to the master. "The idiots with me decided to get themselves killed while dueling rather than go for the quick incapacitation." Yes, she had dueled as well, but not by first choice. Her eyes narrowed. The man that had used her own hand against her in such a ruthless way would die.

"However, I do bring some good news."

The master gestured for her to get on with it. These humans, always wanting quick answers rather than savoring the moment.

Vanessa smirked and held up a knife, blood just beginning to congeal along its edge.

The master smiled cruelly. "Is this what I think it is?"

Vanessa gave a sharp affirmative nod. "The brat's blood. As for the _other_ knife—" Vanessa smirked and the Master began to really grin. "—I'd say the old man is beginning to feel its effects."

"This pleases me, as our ultimate goal was to see to both. Despite your brethren, you have done well."

Anything that would kill more mortals.

O o O o O

* * *

Coming soon: _Poison_


	20. Poison

Disclaimer: Really? We don't own this? Are you sure? Darn, must have been a dream then.

Questions concerning:

_Umbridge's involvement in the paperwork of werewolves_: Her job is in that sort of thing. She did not become minister's aide due to the changes in the timeline. Also note that Fudge did not become the minister due to the same reason.

* * *

**Part 20: Poison**

Pomfrey had been scared before, afraid she might not be able to cure a patient, but right now, she was completely terrified. Not that she showed it of course, but she had no idea what was wrong with the headmaster, besides there being a poison involved and that it had caused obvious alarm and disorientation in her usually calm and sensible friend.

"Poppy, tell us how to help," Minerva said, clearly pushing aside her own fright.

"Make a private room there," she said, pointing to the far corner.

"Right, the students shouldn't see this," she agreed, immediately casting.

Conjuring a wall, transfiguring drapes and casting a few simple wards, the room was ready in less than a minute. Minerva really was an amazing witch.

"Help me move him," Poppy said, getting at the head of the bed and grabbing the head board. "I'll help guide the bed."

And so they moved Albus into the room, brushing past the privacy curtains and leaving Harry asleep behind them.

"Albus, if you can hear me, try to speak," Minerva said, while Pomfrey continued to wave her wand over him.

"He's unconscious and there's some sort of paralyzing agent in his blood stream. Merlin, I should have checked more closely for uncommon contaminates before closing his wound, but my first scan showed him completely clear," Pomfrey fretted.

"You couldn't have known," Minerva said consolingly.

Pomfrey huffed in displeasure at herself and continued working before giving a gasp and bolting out of the makeshift room.

Alarmed, Minerva followed her out to Harry's bed.

"Oh, Merlin, please no," Minerva managed as Pomfrey cast several charms on Harry.

Remus and Provo looked on in apprehension.

"Thank goodness," Pomfrey sighed. "He's fine. I'm not detecting anything in his bloodstream that shouldn't be there."

"That's a relief," Minerva said.

Pomfrey nodded in agreement before returning to Albus.

"Do you need me and Provo here?" Remus asked.

"No, Minerva and I can manage for now if you need to go," Pomfrey said.

"Is Harry going to wake anytime soon?"

"No, I don't believe so, why?"

"I'd like to go to Hogsmeade and look around. Maybe Provo and I can find something that will help you with this poison," Remus said. "I also want to get the scent of the vampire who got away."

"That's not a bad idea," Minerva said.

"Yes," Pomfrey said. "If you wish, I'll send an elf to you if we need you or if Harry wakes."

"I'd appreciate that."

O o O o O

Seth Wiggins and Rita Skeeter arrived at the Hogsmeade apparation point. The aurors had not yet arrived, although Seth figured they would be there soon. While he resented being stuck with the noob while others went on a daring rescue, it did make sense to send someone here. After all, there might be important information about their enemies that was left behind. Seth had a lot of experience in clearing a scene like this.

Rita had out her ever present dicta-quill and parchment. She took notes on absolutely everything. In a situation like this, it was a bit superfluous, but some people worked better when the information was written down. Seth's plan was to share his memory, but whatever.

The scene was chaos, as most post attack scenes were. People were racing away from the Three Broomsticks or huddled in corners. One had a sheet over him, and two others were squatting down in a shell shocked way against the building across the street.

As there was nothing either of them could do for those people, Seth sent Rita to talk with Rosemerta, who was wringing her hands just outside the tavern. He would look over the factual evidence while she dug through the ramblings of bystanders. The aurors should arrive shortly, and he wanted to be out of their way when they arrived.

First, the outside. Based on what Curt had reported briefly before leaving on the rescue, Jess had not been with the Dumbledores once they were inside. He cast a detection spell to make sure there were no darts that Curt missed. He frowned at the doorway. A near perfect circle devoid of magic extended from the entrance, and another was further to the right. Seth took note of them and cast a spell into the area, a simple one that would make grass grow from the cobblestones.

It worked, and now the detection marked that as a place of magic. Seth's frown deepened. What was this? There should, at the very least, be wards over the door to deter thieves. All places of business had something like that. He scanned the area beyond the doorway for more clues.

He noted that the dead person was a muggle and lay partially within one of the circles. Did the vampires attack him especially? Curt was a little vague on what happened before the attackers entered the bar.

He found one more dart lodged between two cobblestones, but no blood. A strange piece of parchment was over by the second circle. Seth carefully reached in the unmagic circle, and when nothing happened to him, he walked over to the parchment. It could be litter, but it could be important. The parchment was ripped and crinkled, and Seth almost turned away.

Then a small spot on the edge caught his eye. Blood? It looked like someone had placed a bloody finger on the parchment. There were no other markings. It was starting to look odd. Seth shrugged as he pulled some tweezers out of his pocket. Better safe than sorry. He picked up the paper and put it in another bag. It could be analyzed later. Looking around, he found another similar parchment, and did the same thing.

A bright spot of magic existed beyond the circles. He carefully stepped closer. A lollipop? Had there been children here other than Harry? The concentration of magic almost blinded him. He added it to the collection of things he was carrying to be analyzed and again looked around.

Other than the one dead person, the only other sign of a fight was a broken shingle that had fallen from the roof. Curt had said the vampires attacked from the roof. He carefully placed the dart in a bag and placed it in his pocket. As Curt had demonstrated, the darts only portkeyed a person if they touched their skin.

Nothing else caught his eye as the detection spell faded, so he moved to go inside. He heard the sound of an apparation behind him, and immediately drew his wand. Curt had told him about the vampire apparating away. There was the possibility that she might come back.

Two men stood in the middle of the street, wands drawn. "Are you one of them?" one growled before breathing deeply. "No, you're not a vampire."

"No, I'm not," Seth answered. Who was this crazy guy?

"You're not with them, are you?" the other man asked in an American accent.

"Ummm, no," Seth answered hesitantly. "Actually, I'm with the Ministry."

The men wrinkled their noses as if they smelt something distasteful, then quickly shifted their expressions to neutral. "Do you have any sort of identification?"

"Umm, well, as a Ministry official, shouldn't I be asking you that?" Seth said incredulously. He had never run into anyone who wanted to id the ministry. Especially after they just showed up at a crime scene. These men were looking even more suspicious.

Both men pulled chain necklaces up from under their robes. It looked like one of those muggle military IDs. From this distance, Seth could not read it, though he knew the ministry handed out these types of IDs to wizards visiting from other countries. He pulled out his card identifying him as an unspeakable, knowing that the men wouldn't be able to read it from that distance. Fortunately, it had a feature for this type of situation.

Seth touched it with his wand and quietly said the word 'official,' at which the card cycled through a predetermined set of colors and proclaimed his status in a medium loud voice. A few people turned his direction, including Rita and Rosemerta, but he had set the volume so only those in the immediate vicinity would hear. The card was impossible to duplicate, as layers of classified spells went into making it. If anyone else tried to activate an official card, there were nasty side effects.

"An Unspeakable?" one of the men questioned, genuinely surprised. "What do you want with this place? Where are the aurors?"

Ah, this was ground Seth knew how to cover. "They are on their way. As for what I want, I'm afraid that's classified."

The man tucked his wand away and ran his hand through his sandy hair. "Of course it is," he muttered. "Look, I know it's a strange request, but I just want to look around a little. You see, I know the Dumbledores and want to help them."

"Really?" Seth questioned sarcastically, not lowering his wand at all. Was this some sick fanboy? He looked vaguely familiar, but Seth couldn't place him. As for the other man, Seth was sure he hadn't seen him before. "What're your names?"

"Remus Lupin," the man answered, "and this is Elric Provo."

Oh, now Seth recalled him. He had been in Gryffindor, and hung out with Potter and Black and that weasely one, Pettigrew. "I thought you were in the states." He didn't know the other man, but recalled the name from one of the latest intel reports on Lupin.

Lupin blinked. "You were keeping tabs on me?"

Seth recovered quickly with a shrug. "Ehh, we looked at a lot of people surrounding the Potter case. Anyway, if you two want to look around outside, that's fine. Just don't ask questions."

"Thanks," Lupin bobbed his head like an enthusiastic house elf. He scanned the road in front of the bar. Provo moved to one side, looking at the building.

Seth shrugged again and walked to the entrance. Looking around, he saw Rita talking to the shell shocked people huddled across the street. She wasn't wearing her spell so that people thought they were being interviewed for the paper. In a way, they were, since she would write the article about this. It was a good way to give the public what they needed to know without revealing all the wrong things or causing a panic.

Lupin was watching Rita, and Provo glanced down the street. While their backs were turned, Seth took the opportunity to place a recorder on the door frame. It was an idea he and Colin had come up with after living in the muggle world. It worked with magic instead of batteries, and was not something offered to the general public. It worked very much like their cameras, but took longer pictures, complete with sound. This model could also follow movement. If Lupin or Provo did anything untoward, the Unspeakables would know.

O o O o O

"Severus, grab your bag, we need to go right now," Nicholas said, entering Severus' office without bothering to knock.

It didn't bother Severus, but he did note that it was odd, as Nicholas always gave him the courtesy of announcing his presence before entering any of his designated rooms in the mansion.

"Where are we going, Master Flamel?" he asked, looking up at the forty-or-so-year-old looking man.

It had taken Severus a little bit to comfortably call anyone 'master' again, but Flamel was obviously not a master in the sense of the word he had had to use before. It also helped that Flamel deserved the title.

Nicholas, like his wife, appeared to only be just past his prime. He was an average looking man, though in shape and visibly confident and wise.

"To Hogwarts. I've just learned that Albus needs our help."

"Oh?"

"That's all I know. The poor elf who delivered the message was beside himself with worry. He practically ordered us to go before I said we would," Nicholas said as Severus grabbed his bag and went to him. "Take hold of this. This will take us to the entrance hall."

Severus did as he was told and felt the familiar yank of a portkey.

O o O

Arriving in the entrance hall, Severus shook himself of old memories and followed Nicholas to the infirmary at a quick pace.

"Hogwarts is restless," Nicholas noted. "Oh, what has happened?"

Coming into the infirmary, they scanned it, quickly growing concerned as they found a child they assumed to be Harry sleeping on one of the beds and curtains blocking off a section of the ward. This did not look good.

"Minerva, go see who just entered," they heard the voice of Pomfrey say.

Minerva stepped out from the temporary room, her eyes heavy with worry. "Master Flamel! Severus?!"

"What's happened, professor?" Severus asked.

"They were attacked again. Please, over here. You must help Albus. He's been poisoned," she said.

Following her, they found Pomfrey beside Albus.

Taking in the scene, they noticed a freshly closed wound on his pale face and drops of sweat gathering on his forehead. His wand had been placed on the side table.

"Give me a sample of his blood," Nicholas stated, stepping beside her. "Severus, tissue sample from the point of entry."

"Yes, there," Pomfrey said, answering Severus' silent question when he brought his wand up to Albus' damaged cheek.

"Is there a place Severus and I can work nearby?" Nicholas asked.

"We can set up another side room. Hogwarts will provide more space if I ask," Minerva said.

"Please do so. I don't want to be too far if his condition changes," Nicholas said as the Deputy Headmistress got to work. "Minerva, I trust the students are secure in their common rooms?"

"Yes. Filius has taken care of that, but dinner is going to be in an hour," she said, a wall moving aside to provide more room. "Is this all you need?"

"Yes, I'll conjure the rest as I need. Go, this is going to take some time. Hogwarts needs you more than Albus does at the moment," he said.

She nodded grimly and left the hospital wing.

"Here," Pomfrey said, giving him a nearly full vial.

"Thank you, my dear. Now let's see if we can't get to the bottom of this, hmm?" Nicholas went to the cleared area, pulled out his wand, put down his bag, and waved his wand over it.

A potion's table set with countless instruments popped into existence out of the bag, as well as two chairs and a special magnifying glass.

"Give me his vitals every two minutes," Nicholas said, a side of his work area visible to Albus' new designated room.

"Yes, Master Flamel," Pomfrey said, conjuring a washcloth and gently wiping Albus' forehead.

O o O o O

Hagrid was leading Anna to the infirmary. He didn't know what this was about, but upon entering the school after Anna had come to his house and asked to be taken in to check on the Dumbledores, he knew this had to be important.

He recognized the official unspeakable badge. Dumbledore had explained he and Harry worked with them occasionally at the Ministry and that they were friends, so he knew he could trust her.

And so now he was escorting Unspeakable Anna to the infirmary as all of the students were being taken to their common rooms.

"Did you see the Headmaster?" a passing student asked another.

"Yeah, he was bleeding. And he was carrying Harry. I hope they're okay."

Upon hearing that, both he and Anna quickened their pace.

Entering with as much grace as a half giant can, Hagrid banged open the doors and rushed in.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir," he called, only to be hushed by a robed man he felt he should recognize but didn't at the moment.

"Hush. If you have not noticed, a child is sleeping," the brisk looking man stated.

Hagrid nearly jumped, now taking in the very different looking infirmary.

"Who are you? Where is the Headmaster? And how is Harry?" he questioned, lowering his voice but still just as urgent as his eyes glided over Harry's small frame a few steps away.

"Hagrid, please, Master Flamel and his apprentice are currently trying to help Albus," Pomfrey said, coming out from behind the curtains.

Hagrid took a step forward, trying to catch a glimpse of where she had just left before glancing at the area behind the man.

"Master Flamel?" Hagrid asked, the name understandably filling him with awe, which was then suddenly slammed aside by more worry. "They're here to help the Headmaster?" he asked Pomfrey before looking back to the man beside him. "Who are you? I know you are not Master Flamel."

"I suppose it's understandable that you don't recognize me, as it has been several years. I am Severus Snape."

"Severus, aid me please," a voice from behind him called. It could only be Master Flamel.

"Yes, Master," Severus answered, immediately turning around and entering the area slightly connected to the private room Hagrid sadly could not see into.

"Hagrid?" Pomfrey asked, wondering why he had come.

"Oh, Unspeakable Anna asked me to escort her here," he said, motioning to Anna.

"Madam," she stated, holding out her unspeakable badge for Pomfrey to see. "We know of the attack and wanted to ensure the Dumbledores were alright. How is the Headmaster?"

Pomfrey saw that the ID checked out, and so, trusting in the wards Dumbledore himself had placed on Hogwarts, she decided to tell a bare outline of what was going on.

"Albus was cut with a poisoned blade, but before its effects started fully, he was able to send a message to Master Flamel," she said.

"What are his symptoms?" Anna asked, staring Pomfrey right in the eyes.

"Paralysis and disorientation, at least as far as we can tell," she answered. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to check on Albus."

"Of course," Anna said softly, turning her eyes to the large man who was now kneeling beside Harry's bed, holding the little boy's uninjured hand in his gigantic one.

Anna pulled back and decided to simply stand at the far side of the room for now. The other unspeakables were busy and couldn't really help right now. She would contact them a little later, and hopefully by then she would have more news, preferably good.

O o O o O

Seth looked at the wicked long knife from all angles before picking it up. There was definitely blood on it, but whether it was human or vampire was impossible to tell at this point. Back at the office, however, Jess would be able to identify it. He carefully cast a preservation spell around it so the magic within the blood wouldn't dissipate as the blood dried. Then it went into a small sack. He now had several of these on his person, holding various possibly useful items. He stood up and cracked his back. The inside was finished, and he was pretty sure he heard aurors outside.

He wondered if those guys had left yet. They were in for some major questioning from the aurors if they hadn't.

O o O o O

Auror Frank Longbottom searched the street. His wife was talking to the innkeeper, Rosemerta, and the others in his group were taking care of their own assignments. He hoped that the Dumbledores were all right, but for now, emotional detachment would serve them best. He would do everything he could to find the attackers. Later, he and his wife would see if the Dumbledores were up for visitors, even if all they could do was to offer comfort. He knew Neville would like to see Harry again, anyway.

The scene was interesting. Even though there had been a death, there was nothing identifying left behind. Most dark wizards left some kind of symbol or _something_ when they killed or did other dark deeds. It was a way to brag without letting everyone know exactly who it was. In rare cases, a symbol became widely known, like Voldemort's snake and skull. However, most were only catalogued within the Ministry.

When the vampires tried to assassinate the Dumbledores at Moody's retirement, there had been nothing left behind either. The Ministry had decided that it was a rogue attempt, but hadn't speculated why (at least to the public). As an Auror, Frank was privy to more information than the general public, but even he knew very little. Working on the 'whys' of something was not his department. That was more something Alice would be interested in.

In fact, she was talking with the famous reporter, Rita Skeeter, right now. Frank could hear clips of their conversation, mainly Alice berating the woman for taking advantage of the situation to sell more papers. Rita was cocky and bull headed as ever, though. He moved his attention back to the scene as a man stepped out of the Three Broomsticks. It wasn't anything to be concerned about, though. The scene was what mattered.

A redheaded man Frank took for an auror was examining the dead man. He called the other man over. See, nothing to worry about; the man must also be an auror, even if Frank didn't recognize him. He went back to examining the street in front of the bar. There was a strange tuft of grass miraculously growing from the middle of a cobblestone. He wondered if that was pertinent or not.

O o O o O

Colin had left Jess and Don in the capable hands of the Unspeakable healer. He was the one who saw to all experimental mishaps and mission wounds. The man had quite the expansive knowledge of random crap. Colin liked to trade knowledge with him, but couldn't stay for long today. He had to rejoin Seth and Rita to tell them about the successful "rescue" of Don and Jess.

Once at the scene, no one acknowledged him. That showed that the spell was working correctly. He wandered around, watching aurors examining and questioning. He spotted Rita talking to a wide-eyed woman not too far from the bar. That was a good place to start. Colin picked his way over to her, avoiding getting in the path of aurors and bystanders. He waited until she was done talking with the distraught woman before he tapped her on the shoulder.

"Oh, hello, Colin," Rita said. "These two need medical attention." She gestured to the woman now leaning tiredly against a wall and the older man next to her.

"Grab an auror," Colin said with a shrug.

"Right." Rita took the arm of a passing auror and pointed out the two she claimed needed healers. While he tended to them, she turned her attention to Colin. "I assume everything went well since you are here now?"

Colin nodded. "Jess and Don are being checked out by the healers now. Curt and David are going over the place where they were being held, and Anna is at Hogwarts. I came to help you guys out."

"Well, Seth is inside, and I've been interviewing people," Rita said. "You might check out the dead man. That is _not _my area of expertise."

"Right-o," Colin said as he squatted next to the dead man. Someone had conjured a sheet, but nothing else had been done. Under the sheet, the man's eyes were wide open, his face contorted in pain and surprise. Colin cast a magical detection spell on him, in order to better see what killed him.

The man had no magic.

This was crazy! Based on the length of time that had passed since the attack, there should still be magic left in the body. It would slowly slip into the earth as the man decayed, but not this quickly. He wondered if the man had been a muggle or a squib, despite the robes he wore.

No, the man's wand was actually in his hand, as if he had been about to cast something. What was stranger was the fact that the wand was also devoid of magic. Wand magic did not decay with the demise of the wizard owner. Looking the wand over, he noticed nothing unusual about it, apart from not reacting to the magic detection spell.

He pocketed the wand. Maybe the research area of RDHPIT could turn up something. Colin glanced around the body and noticed the circle of non-magic. He scratched his goatee while he pondered. Perhaps this was a new type of weapon that removed magic from an area?

He didn't recall anything like this being studied by the Department of Mysteries, but it was possible, he mused.

What he really needed was a way to examine the corpse, but the wizarding world really frowned on that. As an Unspeakable, Colin had a few privileges, but he doubted even his status would convince anyone in charge that cutting into the man was acceptable. It would be considered barbaric, even if it gave a chance to see what the man truly died from.

Presented with a problem, the Ravenclaw's mind set itself to solve it. This was what he did best.

O o O o O

Michael watched as Minerva stood up beside the Headmaster's chair and addressed the school.

"I am sure most of you have heard of the recent attack on the Headmaster and his son. They are both in the infirmary and will remain there until Madam Pomfrey is confident they have fully recovered. If you wish to give any get-well items, please do not send them to the infirmary but to your Head of House."

Michael looked down at the students, taking in their wide eyes, before focusing on Fredrick.

He had made him give an oath of secrecy to not reveal anything the public did not already know about what he had learned in the infirmary.

Fredrick locked eyes with him and gave a soft nod.

"Classes will continue as scheduled; if you have any questions, direct them to your Head of House. I will be acting Headmistress until Headmaster Dumbledore returns. Please continue conducting yourselves responsibly and know the Dumbledores will return to us as soon as they are able. Thank you."

Minerva quietly sat down, the whole Great Hall in complete silence as she lifted her glass to her lips. Even the other professors were staring at her. Michael could see the questions in their eyes, but Minerva had already told them there would be a staff meeting to discuss the matter.

The buzz of dinner conversation returned as if all the students recovered from the shock at the same time. It was more intense than usual, but at least it gave cover so the adults could talk again.

"Well, that could have been worse," Minerva commented. The strain of the evening showed on her forehead and even in the way she clasped her cup of tea.

"I do look forward to hearing the full story after dinner," Horace said. He looked put out that he had been out of the loop.

Minerva simply gave a short nod.

O o O

Fredrick looked down at his plate, able to hear all of the outrageous theories and rumors going around.

"They were attacked, again?!"

"Must have been them vampires again, you think?"

"It sounds like they were hurt pretty bad," someone said softly.

"They were. I saw them when they were on their way to the infirmary. The Headmaster was covered in blood; it was all over the side of his face and getting on his robes."

"He was hurt?"

"Yeah, a long gash that went down to the side of his cheek. It almost looked like Professor Bear had to help guide him to the infirmary."

"But how could he have gotten hurt? I mean, he's Dumbledore! He's the most powerful wizard in the world!"

"He's still human, idiot."

"I wonder how many of them he fought."

"I don't know, last time it had been two in a large room full of Aurors and stuff and the vampires still did a whole lot of damage."

"McGonagall's worried, that much is obvious."

"Hmm."

"Hey, Fredrick, you had gone to the infirmary after that spell blew up on you in DADA, right? Did you see anything?" one of the older students asked him.

That caused practically everyone within earshot to turn to him.

Fredrick blinked. "Uhhhh."

"Come on man, whatcha see?"

"Well." He cleared his throat. "They cordoned off part of the infirmary somewhat, for privacy I suppose. I didn't really see much of anything, really."

"They cordoned it off?"

"Well, did Pomfrey say anything?"

"Professor Bear took me out before I could really learn what was going on," Fredrick lied.

"Bummer. I'd really like to know what's happening. Did you see Harry?"

"Yeah, he was unconscious and his hand was hurt."

"His hand?"

"Which one?"

"Was it the same one with the—"

Fredrick nodded slowly. "Yeah, it was his right."

"Poor kid."

"Poor dear."

"Poor Harry."

Fredrick ducked his head a little, actually wanting to disappear into the background as those around him continued their pointless ramblings. If only they knew what the Headmaster was going through, then perhaps they would _shut up_.

That night, Fredrick didn't drag his feet to his dorm room, but hurried into bed in attempt to forget the day.

O o O o O

Hagrid remained with Harry, rightfully assuming he would not be allowed to see Albus at that time. Now sitting in a chair beside Harry's bed, he was tempted to twiddle his thumbs, but managed to fight off the urge.

Dinner had finished not thirty minutes ago, and the castle was now very quiet. Anna had left not long after that when no more news surfaced about Dumbledore, though Hagrid could hear Master Flamel and Severus working away beyond the wall and talking quietly.

He heaved a mildly quiet sigh before slouching further in his large chair.

"Mmhmm," he heard Harry mumble.

He straightened a little bit and looked at the lad who somehow always found time to give him a smile. He often marveled at how kind Harry was to everyone, and how he never seemed to stare or judge. Perhaps it was because everyone often stared at him and assumed things about him?

Harry shivered slightly, as if a cold breeze had just brushed past him, but all the infirmary windows were closed and the surrounding air was still.

"Mmmn… no… please."

Hagrid immediately frowned at that and shifted forward, reaching his hand out to touch Harry on the shoulder. Hagrid took in Harry's face, finding it to be in a heavy frown, moisture gathering at the corners of his tightly closed eyes.

"Minerva!!!" Harry yelled.

Hagrid couldn't help but jump back as Harry shot up, breathing heavily before opening up his mouth and releasing a furious yell. Then, throwing off his blankets, he leapt from the bed and dashed toward the curtains, his little bare feet pattering across the hard floor.

"PAPA!" he cried, bolting past an alarmed Pomfrey and disappearing behind the drapes.

"Merlin!" Pomfrey gasped as Severus and Nicholas hurried out from their work space.

O o O o O

Severus leaned forward, isolating the proteins in the blood in hopes of identifying the poison, or at the very least determining the effects of it.

About to turn and ask his mentor if he felt the poison could be from a venom, he nearly toppled from his chair when a young voice pierced the air.

"Minerva!!!"

Quickly stabilizing himself, he immediately hurried out with Nicholas to see what the matter was.

"PAPA!"

"Merlin!"

They witnessed a short figure that could only be Harry practically bulldoze Pomfrey on his way to Albus. Evidently oblivious to the stir he had just caused and his audience, he promptly clamored up the bed to kneel beside Albus. Putting his bandaged hand on Albus' left shoulder, he placed his good hand on Albus' right cheek.

Leaning forward, his face only inches above his guardian's, tears still welling up in his eyes, he quietly began speaking.

"It's not real, Papa, it's not real. Wake up, please wake up. It's not real, Papa. No one's dead."

For several seconds all anyone could do was stare as Harry put his head down on Albus' shoulder and repeated those words over and over, clinging to the blankets on Albus' chest.

Finally, Severus stepped forward.

"Harry," he said softly, not knowing how to console a distressed child but deciding a calm voice was the best approach. He suddenly stilled, a gleam of moisture catching his eye.

Tears were seeping from the Headmaster's eyes. He was crying.

Acting instinctively, he hurried forward, ignoring Harry for the moment as he brought his hands up and gently opened one of Albus' eyes. What he saw he could never have prepared himself for. Moving erratically, the blue he often remembered twinkling, was totally devoid of any positive emotion. In its place was pain and inconceivable loss.

He was unable to completely stifle the gasp that escaped him.

"_Papa_," Harry whispered sharply, tightening his hold of Albus as he clenched his jaw.

"Wha—" Severus' eyes widened.

A pulse of power rippled out a short distance from the bed, but traveled no further.

Severus did not know what to make of it. Had it come from Harry? It had to have.

Not knowing what to ask or what else to do, Severus looked back down at Dumbledore's face, his finger still gently holding his old mentor's eye open.

"Headmaster?"

The blue eye, now only revealing slight confusion, seemed to focus on him, before turning to the man beside Severus.

"Albus, look down if you can understand me," Nicholas stated.

Albus' eye looked down before looking back at him. Severus pulled his hand back. Albus blinked, before managing to open both eyes on his own.

"Down is no, up is yes. Do you understand?" Nicholas asked.

Up.

"Do you know who I am?"

Up.

"Do you know where you are?"

He looked around before slowly looking down.

"You are in the infirmary at Hogwarts. Minerva transfigured this room for you, as well as the room Severus and I are working in to help you."

They noticed his pupils dilated slightly when he heard Minerva's name.

"Do you remember what happened at Hogsmeade?"

His eyes stayed focused on Nicholas for a long moment, as if trying to remember, before looking down.

"You and your son were attacked by three vampires, presumably to kidnap you both. In the fight, you were cut with a poisoned blade."

Albus looked up.

"You remember now?"

Up.

"Are you in any pain right now?"

He looked to the side before sliding up.

"Is it a bearable pain?"

Up.

"Localized anywhere?"

Up. Down.

"On the left side of your face, but a little everywhere as well?"

Up.

"Can you move anything else besides your eyes?"

He blinked a few times, and then another few times, concentrating.

"His right hand," Pomfrey pointed out.

They looked around Harry to find Albus' fingers barely applying pressure on the blanket underneath.

"Good, Albus," Nicholas said, nodding, clearly thinking.

They were quiet for a moment.

"Did you have a bad dream, Papa?" Harry interrupted, raising himself up slightly and nearly blocking Nicholas' line of sight.

Albus focused on Harry, and for those watching Albus didn't need to respond. They already knew the answer, but he looked up anyway.

Nicholas shifted over a bit, Severus stepping aside.

"I will get back to isolating the poison, Master Flamel," Severus stated, deciding Nicholas and Pomfrey had the situation under control.

Hagrid was standing just within the room, staring on in silent concern.

"Very good, Severus," Nicholas said quietly as Severus left the room. Waving Hagrid over, Nicholas gently lifted Harry away from Albus. "Peace, dear boy," he said. "We will help him."

Harry nodded against his shoulder.

"Hagrid, would you?" Nicholas asked, giving Harry to him.

"I'll go tuck 'im in in his own bed," Hagrid agreed, cradling him despite Harry's struggle and displeasure.

"No, I want to stay with Papa," Harry complained.

"What you need right now is rest, Harry, and as loath as I am to admit it, it isn't here in the infirmary for you. I think your Papa would agree with me," Pomfrey answered, before looking down at Albus, as if hoping for some sort of support.

Unfortunately for Harry, Albus' eyes had closed. He had gone back to sleep.

"Go on, Hagrid," Nicholas said.

Grudgingly, Harry let himself be carried off, though through the bond he could already feel emotions beginning to churn once more.

O o O o O

Remus Lupin and Elric Provo walked out of Hogsmeade, every muscle tense in case of a surprise attack. Provo, completely in control of the wolf within, used aspects now to help in their search. While both could follow the scent of vampires rather easily, it was Provo who could follow the precise differences in smell, knowing how many there were (three) and where they stopped, turned, or cast.

Based on this knowledge, they had learned that the vampires had only stopped once, at the edge of town. Examining the scents and the ground, Provo determined that it was probably to scout the area, climbing a building to observe locations of people and places.

They hadn't found anything on the building, and so they continued out of town, slowly following the scent. About a quarter of a mile out, the trail ended completely. Remus was about to turn back in disappointment when Provo started circling a small area.

"What are you doing?" Remus asked.

"Checking the footprints," Provo answered.

Remus could see that the grass was bent, but couldn't make anything of it. Apparently, Provo could. "What is it?"

"Well, based on the pattern, I'd guess they apparated in," Provo answered, squatting to better see the trail. "Which makes sense. They wouldn't want to risk an object being found if one of them died that could lead to their hideout."

Remus nodded. "That makes sense, but it doesn't help us much."

"True, but there are some things we can still discover," Provo answered, bringing out his wand. He moved the wand in precise patterns, light trailing out of the end, and Remus recognized it as rune magic. Provo traced two runes in the air representing distance and velocity, then thrust his wand forward. The runes absorbed into the apparation point, making three sets of footprints glow white.

The glowing suddenly shot off to the north, then disappeared. "Right," Provo said, standing up and tucking his wand away. "They came from the north."

O o O o O

Hagrid laid Harry down before tucking the covers around him. Harry grabbed 'Poon, his stuffed phoenix.

"Yer papa's gunna be okay, 'Arry. Master Flamel and his apprentice will fix him up fine," Hagrid said.

Harry turned his head and closed his eyes, pulling 'Poon to himself.

How was he supposed to sleep knowing the poison was currently making Albus see horrible things? Things that had happened in the future.

Yes, he was certain of it now, and was certain Flamel and Severus had concluded the same, minus the future bit, or would very soon. How could they not?

"Would you like me to stay in here with you?" Hagrid asked.

Harry opened his eyes and looked at him. He didn't want to be alone, but he also wanted to be. He wanted to do something to help Albus, but didn't know if he'd be able to with someone watching him.

"Do I have to sleep?" Harry asked.

"Well, you prolly should."

"I'm not tired."

"Madam Pomfrey said you should sleep though."

"I already had a long nap," Harry countered.

"Hmm, I suppose you staying up fer a little bit won't hurt nothin'."

Harry beamed. "Thanks, Hagrid!"

Without waiting for a response, he jumped out of the bed and ran to his desk just outside his room. Returning a few seconds later, Hagrid just now rising to follow him, he plopped his crayons on the bed with a clean sheet of parchment and a large thin book for a hard surface to write on.

"What's this, Harry?"

"Well, pictures help people feel better when they're sick, right?"

"Of course, Harry," Hagrid said, his eyes sparkling as he gathered what Harry was doing. "Yer gonna draw sum'pin fer yer Papa?"

Harry nodded, looking at the blank sheet before him.

It might not completely remove the poison-induced nightmares, but it might take the edge off at least. He knew it couldn't hurt, as it was an entirely different scope of magic. Not only that, but he doubted the makers of the poison thought anyone would use runes to attempt to combat it.

Placing his wrapped hand on the page, he narrowed his eyes in thought….

He slowly took hold of a purple crayon with his right hand, holding it carefully with the bandage.

"Why don't yeh use yer other hand, Harry? You usually use yer left," Hagrid advised, a little concerned. "I don't want yeh to hurt yer hand more."

"I'll be fine, Hagrid. I think it'll turn out better if I use this hand," Harry said.

He had never drawn an entire rune network with his right hand before, but now that he was, he couldn't believe he hadn't before. He went to another color, and another and another.

It just felt so right, despite the raw pounding coming from the cut on his palm.

Drawing circle after circle, pouring as much positive emotion as he could into each stroke of colored wax, he drew several rune networks. One within another that looped into a third. It was very complex rune-work, but he was confident in his skills. He had had over four years to refine his skills, after all. He could feel the power radiating from the page and onto his right palm, and it wasn't even truly activated.

"What are you drawin', Harry? Whatever it is, it's very beautiful," Hagrid said.

"Layered networks," Harry answered.

"What are those, Harry?"

"I read somewhere they help people sleep better," Harry answered.

"Oh, like them dream-snatchers?"

"I think they're called dream-catchers, Hagrid," Harry corrected with a smile before putting the crayon down.

"Something wrong, Harry?"

"No, but could you get me that book over there? It's a little heavy for me."

Hagrid obliged and went and pulled out the heavy tome. He then placed it in front of Harry, very curious. Flipping through several pages with his left hand, Harry came to what he was seeking.

_For layered rune-networks, the runemaster must find an adequate source of coating to prevent the networks' magic from going where it should not. This coating can be blood, a rare magical powder, liquid, or other material with a large magic density. It must be as potent as the networks' center of magic, for it is its anchor. _

It went on to give further suggestions and showed how to measure magic density, but Harry had already chosen what he would use.

"Does the Headmaster know you read his books, Harry?"

"'His books'? Hagrid, these are my books. Why would Papa keep his books in my room?"

"These are yer books?! Blimey, Harry, I didn't know you read so much!"

Harry shrugged, trying not to be blinded by the pride for him beaming off the man. "Papa gave 'em to me."

"Yer very smart, Harry," Hagrid said.

"Sometimes," Harry answered, now putting the crayons away. "Um, Hagrid, could you do me a favor?"

"Certainly, Harry. Whatcha need?"

Harry looked up. "Could you bring Fawkes and his perch in here? I don't want him to be lonely. He's just a baby right now. Papa told me I have to take care of him when he can't."

"Of course," Hagrid said, giving a sad smile.

* * *

A/N: Today marks the 1st year anniversary of this story ^^. Thanks for all of your reviews, we hope you all will continue to enjoy what we post.

Coming soon: _Runes_


	21. Runes

Disclaimer: Really? We don't own this? Are you sure? Darn, must have been a dream then.

* * *

**Part 21: Runes**

Minerva approached the infirmary.

She had just finished holding an emergency meeting with the staff (save for Madam Pomfrey) and had told them what was happening with the Headmaster in much more detail than she had shared with the students at dinner. They had all reacted the way she had expected. Worried but outwardly in control.

What she had not expected was what took place after she had called the meeting to an end, when she, Filius, and Sybil Trelawney were left alone in the room.

She shivered, trying to rid herself of the feeling that had risen after hearing Sybil's words.

_'It will happen three strikes past midnight. The Dark Lord will rise again with the aid of his other and will seek his others to strengthen further. He will then hunt the one he marked and the world will see true chaos. At three strikes past . . . the Dark Lord will rise.'_

She and Filius did not know what that meant exactly, but even she could not deny the validity of what they had just heard. Trelawney had no clue of what she had said and had left saying she felt Minerva and Filius should take pepper-up potions. Had it not been so disturbing, Minerva would have laughed. Trelawney, clueless of the prophecy she had just given them.

After calming, she and Filius agreed to keep what they had just heard to themselves. With everything going on, they did not need to add this to the mix. However, they would tell Albus as soon as he was well.

"Minerva, got the students settled?" Pomfrey asked as she walked in.

Minerva nodded tiredly. "Any change?" she asked, not yet noticing Harry wasn't there.

"Some. He can open his eyes and communicate with us that way, and he has some motor function back in his hands. Master Flamel and Severus both feel the paralysis will wear off completely in a few days, so they are focusing on the other effects of the poison." Pomfrey became still.

"What?"

Pomfrey sat down, Minerva following her lead before Pomfrey told her what had happened just after dinner with Harry, specifically his nightmare and how it seemed Albus was having a nightmare as well at the same time.

"And he shouted my name?" Minerva asked.

"Yes. I've never heard him sound so scared before, Minerva," Pomfrey said.

"Where is he?" Minerva asked.

"In his room with Hagrid. Probably not sleeping, but at least Hagrid is keeping his mind off of things. Oh! I forgot to send a message to Remus! I told him I'd send for him once Harry woke but with Albus waking, I had forgotten. Hopefully he won't be too upset," Pomfrey said, about to call for a house elf.

"He's probably heading back right now, Pomfrey. There's no need to send for him now. He has been gone for nearly three hours, after all."

"You're right. Harry and Hagrid seem to get along anyway, and though I'm sure Harry loves Remus, I don't think he's close enough to him to completely relax around him yet. And right now Harry needs to relax."

Minerva nodded in agreement. "Are Master Flamel and Severus making progress?"

"They seem to be. Master Flamel said they might try something tomorrow after they check a few things," Pomfrey said.

"May I see him?" Minerva asked.

"Of course."

Minerva brushed past the curtains, hoping to find Albus awake, but he wasn't.

"He's woken a few times, but has been disoriented every time," Pomfrey said quietly. "The last time, I don't think he recognized me at first, or didn't believe it was me," she added just as softly.

"Oh, Pomfrey."

"It's worse, I'm afraid," Nicholas said, coming up behind them.

They turned around, far enough from the bed they were confident Albus could not hear if he woke.

"What?" Minerva asked, Severus still working beyond Nicholas.

"We found traces of what we can only assume to be hallucinogens in his blood. Powerful ones. I've frankly never seen the likes of them before. It's a wonder he's able to get over them so quickly when he comes to."

"So what Harry was saying before . . . ?" Pomfrey asked.

"Yes, but what troubles me is that Harry more than just knew Albus was seeing things that weren't real. He must have seen them too, perhaps even from Albus' point of view. Why else would he call out 'Minerva'?"

"He is the reason why Albus sent for you. Harry had told him something was wrong and to 'get Sev'. I can only assume he meant you, Mr. Snape," Pomfrey said.

"Curious. So he knew there was something wrong with Albus before the rest of you did?" Nicholas asked.

"Yes."

"But how?" Severus asked, looking to Nicholas.

"I'm not sure. Harry has no trace of the poison in him, so that's thankfully not it." Nicholas paused. "In our letters, Albus always told me he and Harry were very close. Perhaps he was trying to tell me something without outright telling me," Nicholas confided.

Minerva frowned in thought. "If you two were anyone else, I wouldn't say anything, but . . . Harry and Albus have an empathic bond, of sorts. I don't know much else other than that. Albus keeps this a closely guarded secret," Minerva said. "And when he told me he never outright said it, just alluded to it."

Nicholas nodded thoughtfully. "As he should. How strong is it?"

"I don't know, which is why I'm going to go check on Harry."

O o O o O

Remus made his way to the infirmary. After searching Hogsmeade and following the scent trail of those rancid vampires, he and Provo had determined what direction they had come from. However, there was no way to pinpoint this precisely, so they had returned to get some rest after the harrowing day.

What Remus wanted now was to see Harry and then go to bed like Provo had.

"Professor, has Harry woken?" Remus asked, Minerva walking toward him.

"Oh, yes, he has. And Albus woke for a time as well. I'm afraid Poppy was a little distracted and forgot to send for you, but I'm on my way to Harry right now if you would like to join me. We had Hagrid take him to his room."

"I'd like that," Remus said, a little bummed he hadn't been sent for earlier, but understanding that what was going on with Albus was a bit more important than his own happiness. "How is the headmaster?"

Minerva fought back a sigh.

"Master Flamel and his apprentice came not long after you and Provo left. They've found some kind of hallucinogen in his blood. They believe it's making him see things that are not real." Minerva took a breath before giving Remus a summed up version of what had happened with Harry when he had woken.

"I'm also afraid, if Master Flamel is right, of what Harry might have seen in Albus' dream. From what Poppy told me, it wasn't anything anyone should be seeing."

They came to the gargoyle, which opened upon receiving the password from Minerva. They went up the stairs and entered the Headmaster's private quarters where he and Harry lived.

"I'm not sure Fawkes should leave his perch dish, 'Arry," they heard Hagrid say.

"Papa always lets me, and Fawkes loves the bowl I made for him. See? He's scooting his ash into a pile for me to scoop up."

_Chirp-chirp!_

Harry giggled.

"I even made sure the bowl stays warm for him. See that? After Papa cast the unbreakable charm on the bowl for me, I drew it on there. There's also one on the bottom to prevent it from accidently being pushed off a table."

Minerva and Remus paused just behind the cracked open door, now very curious.

"Are those more of 'em runes?"

"Yup. Papa lets me put them on stuff as long as I'm sure of what they do. He likes what I did to his lemon drops."

"Is that why they're different colors now?"

"Uh-huh. He's happy cuz he's gotten Profess'r Minmin to eat the red and gold ones. I think he likes her, you know."

"Oh?" Hagrid's voice was laced with amusement. "Why do yuh think that?"

"Well, Luna told me her mum said when boys grow up they don't care about cooties so much and when that happens the good ones try to be gentlemen and give the girl they like things."

"And you think since yer Papa likes to give Professor McGonagall the special lemon drops that. . . ." Hagrid asked, incredulously.

"He's also really nice to her."

"He's nice to everyone though," Hagrid pushed, actually poking at Harry's logic. He seemed to be enjoying himself.

"He always pulls the chair out for her at meals."

"He does that for you too."

"That's because I'm small and his son. When I get older he won't do that for me anymore because I'll be a gentleman like him."

"But gentlemen are supposed to pull out chairs for girls, even ones they don't like like that."

"Hmm, but the way Papa does it for Profess'r Minmin is different. I can tell."

_Chirp-chirp!_ Fawkes added with a nod. He seemed to agree with Harry.

"Well, I ain't gonna argue with yeh and the Headmaster's phoenix," Hagrid surrendered with a chuckle before moving his face closer after a moment. "Jus' between you and me, Harry, I think yer right."

Harry grinned, before subtly glancing to the door with a mental smirk.

Covering up a chuckle with a cough, Remus gently knocked on the door, trying not to smile at Minerva's slightly red face.

"Harry?" Remus asked, pushing the door open a little more.

"Hi, Remus and Professor," Harry said, leaning forward to see around the door at them.

Remus entered the room, noting Fawkes' perch had been moved in from Albus' office and was now beside Hagrid who was sitting next to Harry's bed. But Fawkes was not there. He was partly buried in a large pile of ash inside the bowl Harry was holding.

Remus noted Harry's hand was loosely bandaged.

"How are you feeling, Harry?" Remus asked after a brief moment of silence.

"Good. Just playing with Hagrid and Fawkes," he answered innocently, 'Poon sitting a little lopsided beside the bowl where the real phoenix was.

Minerva stepped around Remus and approached the bed.

"Mind if we join you?" she asked, conjuring two chairs. It didn't seem like a question but Harry had no objections at the moment.

"No," Harry said, petting Fawkes on the head.

Fawkes leaned into his touch. Utterly adorable.

"Papa's not better yet, is he?" Harry asked, though Minerva and Remus had a feeling it was more of a statement rather than a question.

"No, not yet, but Master Flamel and Severus are working on it," Minerva answered.

Harry nodded, now gently flicking the tiny feathers Fawkes had on his head. Fawkes seemed to enjoy it.

"How is the Headmaster?" Hagrid asked.

"He's woken up a few more times now," Minerva said, not quite sure how much she should tell Hagrid.

"He has? That's good news, at least," Hagrid said, oblivious.

Minerva nodded, before focusing on Harry. "Harry, Pomfrey told me what happened when you woke up."

"Oh." Harry looked down, briefly closing his eyes as if pushing away pain.

Harry could feel rage and despair through the bond now, rising from something he could only identify as darkness.

"Are you okay?" Minerva asked.

Harry slowly looked up. "I will be."

"You feel something from Albus right now, don't you?"

"Yes."

Remus looked from Harry to Minerva and back again. He wasn't quite sure what this was about, but had his suspicions. He had often wondered if there was some sort of connection between Albus and Harry, but had never gathered the courage to ask about it. He didn't feel he had the right to.

"Harry?" Minerva prompted.

"I don't want to say." Harry closed his eyes and turned away. He wanted to be in the infirmary. He wanted to be with Albus. Papa needed him.

"Please, Harry. Let us help," Remus managed. He couldn't not say something.

"Telling you won't help me or Papa."

"What is he seeing?" Minerva pressed.

"Bad things. Very bad things."

"Are you seeing them as well?" Minerva asked, horrified for Harry's sake.

Harry shook his head no. "I feel it."

"Then what happened before?"

"We shared a dream. Sometimes that happens." Harry shrugged.

Minerva moved closer to Harry, taking hold of his good hand. "What was the dream?" She wasn't going to give up easily. She wanted to know what Albus was going through.

Harry met her eyes, his own becoming a steely green.

"Please, Harry. I must know."

Harry swallowed.

"You died. You had told Papa to save me and to leave you behind. He didn't want to, but he had no choice. I had been hurt and we had to run away. We were losing." Harry looked down and whispered, "We had lost."

Harry shut his eyes, trying but failing to hold back the tears. Fawkes gave a supportive chirp as Hagrid pulled him into a hug. Minerva rubbed his back. Harry relaxed, happy to receive their silent support, rather than hearing useless things like how everything was going to be alright and to not worry. He hated when people said those sorts of things when they had no idea what the future held. It was almost a mockery of hope.

"Is he asleep?" Remus whispered.

"I believe so," Minerva answered just as softly.

Harry just let them believe that, he was close enough to the truth anyway.

Hagrid gave a sniffle. "It just ain't fair."

"No, no it isn't," Remus agreed.

"Remus, would you mind staying here with Harry? Hagrid and I need to see to the school," Minerva said after a moment.

"Of course," he said as Hagrid laid Harry down and tucked him in.

O o O o O

Finally, he was alone. Well, Remus was in the next room 'reading', but Harry could hear the man's soft snores. Harry didn't deny that he was also tired, but he had a mission to complete before he slept.

He hadn't shown the rune network he had drawn to anyone except Hagrid, mostly because he didn't want everyone to start analyzing it and him when Papa's life should be the priority. Besides, he wanted to see for himself how Papa was doing, as he could feel things were not going well at all.

Harry slowly slid off of his bed and kneeled to get underneath his bed. Quietly pulling out a case, he retrieved his father's invisibility cloak. Standing back up and taking hold of the special cargo he had gently placed on the bed, he went under the cloak.

Tiptoeing out the door, Fawkes completely still in the bowl he was holding against his chest, he was relieved to find Remus sound asleep in a chair with an open book in his lap. Hoping magic would help him be silent, he went out of the living quarters and out of Albus' office.

He noted happily that Hogwarts had felt his plea, making his exit from Albus' office go unnoticed.

_Chirp?_ Fawkes questioned quietly.

"Yes, we're going to Papa. I'm also going to need some of your ash, if that's okay?"

Fawkes seemed offended Harry felt the need to ask as he pushed a little ash in his bowl with his gimpy wing. Harry smiled, a carefully rolled sheet of parchment in his other hand. They continued to the infirmary and made it without any problems. There weren't even ghosts about and the portraits were unusually still and quiet.

Entering the infirmary, he hurried to the curtained off area. Peeking between the slit, he found Severus sleeping on a conjured bed not far from a table where Flamel was working. He rightfully assumed they were working in shifts. Looking on the other side, he found Albus sleeping, the area between him and the potion masters now separated by another sheet to block out the light Flamel was using. He didn't see Pomfrey and decided she was in her chambers that were behind the infirmary.

Harry was still hidden under the cloak but was concerned Flamel would see the curtains move when he entered, so he went in when Flamel's back was turned.

'Papa,' Harry thought, carefully placing Fawkes on the bed and draping the cloak around his shoulders to remain partly hidden.

Albus was still, but Harry could feel the strain of battle and anger, of loss and pain. Taking his left hand, Harry took hold of Albus'. He received a brief squeeze and felt a momentary brush of gratefulness and awareness.

'I'm here,' Harry thought, sending emotions of comfort before releasing Albus' hand and getting to work.

Fawkes made a pile of the ash he could spare at one end of the bowl as Harry flattened the sheet of parchment on the bed. Then, taking several pinches of Fawkes' ash, sprinkled it all over the page before taking out a blade Albus had given him for his quills.

Cutting his finger, he let three drops of blood fall at the center of each rune network before squishing the drop and trailing each main rune with it.

"That should do it," Harry whispered. Fawkes nodded.

Harry's cut closed soon after.

Harry then crawled under the bed with a roll of tape and placed the parchment directly under Albus' head after setting Fawkes beside him on the floor so he could watch. Fairly confident no one would be looking under the bed, he hoped Remus and Provo wouldn't be able to smell the blood he had used as he covered Fawkes and himself with the cloak. He then unwrapped his right hand and, out from under the cloak, placed it at the center of the secured page.

"Ex umbra in solem, adsum," he whispered.

The networks flared to life, the colors glistening brightly for a long moment as the power extended forth, his blood gleaming. He felt Albus relax through the bond as the light from the runes diminished, the runes still resonating energy up through the bed.

Suddenly, he heard the scraping of a chair and barely managed to pull his hand back under the cloak as Flamel entered the room.

Trying to quiet his breathing, he closed his eyes.

Activating three rune networks was exhausting, and after already being a little tired he was content in staying the night under Albus' bed with Fawkes.

O o O o O

"Albus?" Nicholas asked, coming in.

He had just felt what he could have sworn was a pulse from a rune network activation, and a powerful network at that, but what he found provided no evidence of the event.

Albus was motionless on the bed, though the slow rise and fall of his chest told Nicholas he was not in the midst of a nightmare, thank Merlin. Nicholas was certain his dear friend had suffered over half a dozen after Harry had left.

Coming closer, he could not shake the feeling that there was someone else in the room. He felt no danger, but there was something he settled on identifying as protective intent radiating from the area . . . under? Albus.

Pulling out his wand (one could never be too careful), he looked under the bed but found no one. However, the feeling one gets when someone is staring right at them was saturating his senses. Moving his eyes along the empty floor, he then focused his attention to the underside of the bed.

"What is this?"

A piece of parchment was stuck on the frame holding up the mattress. It was definitely magical.

Now getting on both of his knees, he shifted forward and placed a hand on the floor for leverage. His knees creaked and he wondered if he should have had Severus check under here, but he could not wake the poor man. He needed his sleep. Nicholas could tell all of this was getting to the lad. Severus had probably never considered that his old mentor could ever fall victim like this. It was hard for all of them to see a man like Albus silently weeping in his sleep.

Holding back a sigh, Nicholas moved further, reaching for the curious parchment.

He froze, feeling something liquid-like brush across his hand just beneath the parchment.

Now having a fair idea what he had touched was an invisibility cloak, he quickly gripped and pulled.

"Harry?"

Harry blinked at him tiredly. "Hi."

"Harry, what are you doing under here?" he asked gently.

"Helping Papa."

Nicholas' eyes flickered to the parchment above them and moved his hand to retrieve it.

_Chirpchirp-chirp!_

Unexpectedly, Fawkes, who he had not realized was there until now, leapt up and pecked at his arm. To Nicholas, the message was quite clear. 'Leave that parchment where it is if you want to keep your eyes as they are!'

"Whoa, Fawkes. Sorry, Fawkes, I won't touch it, but may I look at it?"

Fawkes turned his head to Harry.

Harry sighed but scooted over, allowing Nicholas to lie on his back next to him to examine it.

Nicholas lifted his wand a little. "_Lumos_." Now it was his turn to blink. "So it was a rune activation I felt," he whispered. "But this is . . . several networks incorporated together. Harry, where did you get this?"

"Well, I sort of . . . made it," Harry admitted shyly.

Nicholas' eyes widened as he looked back at the masterpiece above him. Examining it further, it took him a moment to figure out what had been used to draw the runes. A form of colored wax? And what was this dusty coating? He glanced at Fawkes. Well, that answered that question, but what were the dark smudges. . . ?

His eyes narrowed.

Blood.

"Harry, did you use blood?"

"Um. . . ."

"Answer the question, Harry."

"Well, I was reading large networks need an anchor, so I figured my blood and Fawkes' ash would serve pretty well for that. And Fawkes agreed with me."

"You used _your_ blood? Do you know how dangerous that is?"

"I know the dangers, but Papa needs me. My blood was the best choice."

Nicholas pinched the bridge of his nose (barely managing to do so as the bed's frame was just inches above). "I don't know how you managed to do this, Harry, but blood magic is practically a forbidden magic."

"Practically, but not actually," Harry stated.

"But doing it with runes is believed to be downright near impossible, and when it is done it is done with dragon's blood, not a wizard's and certainly not a boy's." Nicholas shook his head and muttered to himself, "When Albus said you were a remarkable child, I had no idea he was actually downplaying the truth."

"Master Flamel?" Harry looked out from under the bed and spotted Snape's boots. "Why are you . . . under the bed?"

"Just talking with young Harry, Severus."

"Harry, but shouldn't he be in bed?" he asked, approaching them.

Harry crawled out, before reaching back under and retrieving Fawkes. He stood with his head bowed and both hands holding Fawkes' bowl, his cloak draped across his arm.

Nicholas emerged soon after.

"Should I even ask?" Severus asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Harry is either a genius or exceedingly lucky. Perhaps both."

"…Oh?"

Nicholas placed a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"He placed a triple rune-network under Albus, complete with a coating of phoenix ash and his own blood to act as an anchor."

"He what?!" Severus exclaimed, barely restraining himself from truly raising his voice.

"Fawkes has instructed me to leave it in place. I have examined it and have found it to be sound."

"What does it do?"

"Well, from what I can tell, it should help deviate negative emotions somewhat and focus positive ones into Albus' dreamscape. It also seems to provide a protective ward, but as I was not close enough to hear the activation proclamation, I don't know its complete purpose."

"I thought you would be able to without the proclamation."

"Normally, it wouldn't be a problem, but Harry has managed to blend three networks together in such a way that there is no clear separation between them."

Severus turned his eyes to Harry, who had yet to look up.

"Harry, could you tell me what you said to activate them?" Nicholas asked.

Harry lifted his eyes a little. "Ex umbra in solem . . . adsum."

"'From the shadow into the light'," Severus translated the first part.

"'I am here'," Nicholas finished. "Harry, did you choose this?"

Harry nodded.

"Master, I've never heard of that proclamation."

"It's because no one has ever used that phrase before to activate a rune network," Nicholas answered. "Harry, did Albus teach you some Latin?"

"He bought me a book for one of my birthdays," Harry answered.

"I see."

"Master, how is this—" Severus began, only to stop as he looked over at Harry who appeared to be nearly asleep on his feet.

"Enough questions. I'm sure Harry will answer them after a good night's rest. Whatever he has done, it seems to be helping Albus," Nicholas said, motioning to Albus who was more relaxed than they had seen that entire day. "Well, now, let's get you to bed and let Remus know where you are, as I'm fairly certain he knows nothing about you sneaking off."

Harry had the decency to look ashamed of himself as Nicholas looked to Severus.

"Severus will take you back to your room. Madam Pomfrey would not be amused if she found you here in the morning."

Harry sighed, but agreed he did not wish to face Pomfrey's wrath in the morning. He was actually sort of surprised (but thankful) that they had not questioned him about his invisibility cloak.

"Come," Severus said, placing his hand on the back of Harry's neck. Oddly, it had no hostility, just strictness. "It is nearly midnight. No boy your age should ever be up this late."

Harry didn't argue, but let Severus guide him away.

"Good night, Master Flamel," Harry said, looking back at him, despite Snape's hand.

"Good night, child."

Severus gave Nicholas a departing nod as they exited the infirmary.

Going down the quiet corridors, Harry risked looking up at Severus.

He was not quite the Snape Harry remembered in the future, that much was clear, but there was evidence of the man Harry had grown to trust. He was confident, stern, and wise. He had no trace of the bitterness his counterpart in the future had had in Harry's early years. It was clear the Flamels had been good for him.

"Do you find my face interesting, Mr. Dumbledore?" Severus asked, glancing down at him with his black eyes.

Harry blushed, not having meant to stare. "Well, Papa talks about you sometimes, I was just wondering if. . . ." He stopped himself. He was tired and didn't want to say something he'd regret later.

"Wondering?" Severus prompted. His tone didn't exactly express impatience or annoyance, but it was clear it would be a bad idea to withhold a reply.

"You're a Potions Master and know a lot of stuff," Harry began, trying to decide where he should direct this conversation. Somewhere safe, with any luck.

"Yes, I suppose I do. What has this got to do with your curiosity?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and making Harry anxious for some reason.

"Um. I brew potions sometimes," Harry blurted. He didn't want to make Severus think he was an annoying kid, but unfortunately couldn't stop himself from saying the first thing that popped into his head.

"Oh? I assume with the Headmaster's supervision?"

"Papa knows what I do. He says he won't hinder me in learning things I'm interested in as long as I'm careful and smart about it. He even got me books so I can read how things are done."

"He doesn't let you use a wand, does he?" Severus asked, his eyebrow somehow rising higher.

"No, I'm not old enough, I know that. But he's shown me wand movements and incantations so when I am old enough I won't be starting totally new."

"Very well. So you brew?"

Harry nodded happily. "I have a new potions kit I got in the summer. I've only been able to use it a few times so far, though. I've been busy reading up on runes."

"Hmm," Severus replied, eyeing him, intrigued. "When did you start and what potions have you attempted?"

"When I was three, papa helped me with my first one — a pepper-up potion. He didn't think it was a good idea for me to use a knife yet. But since I've been able to safely use a knife, I've made some potions for Madam Pomfrey: Calming Draught, Pepper-up Potion, Deflating Draught, Hair-Back Potion, Invigoration Draught, Draught of Peace, Sleeping Draught, and Shrinking Potion," Harry answered, not really registering how much he was saying as he counted off on his small fingers.

His restraint was sort of slipping due to how tired he was.

"With your papa's help?" Severus asked.

"No, I made them all by myself, you can ask Fawkes," he answered, lifting Fawkes up, who was unfortunately asleep and oblivious to the current conversation. "Well, you can ask him tomorrow," Harry added sheepishly.

"That won't be necessary. I'm quite good at telling if one is lying to me," Severus stated.

Harry idly wondered if Severus was trying to be intimidating.

"That's good. Papa says that identifying a falsehood can be more revealing than hearing a truth."

"Quite."

They were now in front of the gargoyle.

"I assume you know the password?" Severus asked.

Harry shook his head, but placed his hand on the gargoyle's nose, causing the door to open.

"I don't need one."

"Sensible."

They went up and quietly entered the room, finding Remus still sound asleep. Harry had only been gone for about an hour.

Severus narrowed his eyes. Harry could tell he was not impressed with the gentle werewolf as he waved Harry off into his room. Harry didn't hesitate to follow his silent instructions and got into bed (after placing Fawkes on the side table, still in his bowl), but not before catching Severus take out his wand.

Now watching from his bed, still able to see Severus, including his face, he saw the Potions Master lower his wand as the corner of his mouth lifted in curious amusement.

"Accidental magic," Severus whispered, before going toward Harry's room. Stopping at the doorway, Severus peered in. "You are to stay in this room and sleep, is that clear?"

Harry nodded quickly.

"Good."

"Um, good night, Mr. Snape."

Severus paused, his obsidian eyes meeting Harry's green. "Good night, child."

O o O o O

Don took the first bite out of his pepperoni, sausage, and mushroom pizza, watching the cheese string out as he pulled the huge slice away. Before he could catch it, the cheese broke and slapped against his chin. Quickly, he used a napkin to remove the offending food, and glanced around. The other unspeakables were focused on their own food, which meant they hadn't seen that happen.

While he chewed the deliciousness that was his dinner, he watched his wife. Jess had ordered Chinese, and was expertly maneuvering her chopsticks. A smile spread across his face. He was so lucky to have her.

As if feeling him watch her (and she probably had) Jess glanced up and smiled quickly at him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. His smile grew wider. There was nothing like being kidnapped to bring a family together. Merlin, he loved her.

"So, uh, what did you guys find out?" Seth asked with a mouth full of chili. They were sitting around the conference table, enjoying dinner over the vital discussion of what had happened.

"Based on the layout of the place," Curt answered between bites of queso flameado, "we don't think it was the main base of operations. In fact, it looked almost like it was built especially for this attack."

Don nudged Jess, who squinted at him then nudged him back.

"Did you find out where they came from?" Anna asked, fork poised over her Chinese stir fry. "Or why vampires were working with wizards?"

"Not really," David answered over his steak. "We did notice that some of the dead wizards had the dark mark."

"Only some?" Rita asked with arched eyebrow. She had chosen a salad with grilled chicken and was daintily eating it.

"Yes," Colin answered after swallowing a bit of his turkey sandwich. "We think it might be a new group trying to make a power play. The Hunters should give us a full list of suspicious activities in the morning."

The Hunters were a small, elite group of the Department of Mysteries. They watched for groups that could become dangerous to the current Ministry. By following large shipments of certain potion ingredients, for example, they could track a group preparing to poison a large amount of people. They rarely took direct action against such groups, but if they had to, each member was qualified to do so. Don had belonged with them before he transferred to RDHPIT, and still did odd jobs for them now and then.

"What about on your end of things, Seth?" David asked.

"I picked up a lot that I'll analyze in the morning," Seth answered. "The weirdest thing I saw was an area that had no magic in it."

Jess perked up at this. "What do you mean?"

"I cast the detector spell and two near perfect circles showed up with absolutely no magic in them," Seth said. "Which is strange, in a magical place like Hogsmeade."

"Any clue on how they were formed?" Anna asked.

"Well, each spot had a blank scrap of parchment with a smudge of blood on it nearby," Seth answered with a shrug. "Like I said, I'll analyze it in the morning."

"What about you, Rita?" Colin asked. "When I came up you were interviewing people."

"Yes," Rita answered briskly. "I found two people who had been in the area when the attack happened. They said they'd been hit by some sort of blast, and they felt utterly drained. I had a healer tend to them, and she promised to send the results to me."

Curt raised his eyebrows. "How'd you get her to promise that?"

"I hinted that it might mean she was mentioned in the article," Rita said with a shrug.

"That's interesting," Colin said. "I examined the dead man, and found that he was just as devoid of magic as the circles Seth was talking about. Maybe whatever took the magic out of them also took the magic out of the man. That would be bad news for us if the vampires have something like that. What if they decided to use it on a massive scale?"

"That would be bad," Curt agreed. "I've never even heard of anything like that."

Suddenly all eyes were on Don. He pulled his elbow from where it had been gently nudging Jess and cleared his throat. "I don't think there's anything like that under development," he explained. "I can check tomorrow."

"What about you, Anna? How are the Dumbledores?" Jess asked, now that Don wasn't distracting her.

"Unfortunately, Albus Dumbledore is not doing well," Anna answered. "Some kind of poison got to him, and it's affecting his mind. All I could catch from him were scraps of what I would normally call memories, but they couldn't possibly be." She looked disturbed by whatever she had seen.

"How do you know?" Jess asked.

"They weren't things that happened," Anna answered with a frown. "People were alive who are dead; people died who aren't dead; they were the wrong age, that sort of thing. Nicholas Flamel and his apprentice were called to deal with it."

Several eyebrows rose at this. "It must be bad, then," Seth ventured.

Anna nodded. "He was paralyzed too, but when I left he was starting to move his hands a bit."

"That's no good," Curt said. "When he left me he was walking."

"From what I could gather, the poison was affecting him but he was pushing through it with pure magic and adrenaline to get Harry to safety," Anna answered.

"How is Harry?" Jess asked.

"He's mostly fine," Anna answered. "He's getting glimpses of what Albus is seeing through the bond, but physically, he's ok."

"Poor kid," Rita put in.

"What actually happened, then?" David asked.

"Well, what I saw was Harry and Albus run into the bar before three vampires jumped us," Curt answered. "One of them attacked Albus, one attacked me, and one was on Harry. You remember when Harry reflected the killing curses the first time we'd heard of him?"

Everyone nodded.

"Well, he did something like that, except no one had cast the curse. Anyway, it killed the one on him," Curt finished.

"Holy..." Colin trailed off.

"Yeah, this is getting ridiculous," Seth said. "What?" he questioned as people glared at him.

"I'll take a look at him tomorrow," Jess said. "Maybe I can figure out what happened."

"I'll go with you, baby," Don said. He wasn't letting her get out of sight if he could help it.

"Good idea," Jess agreed. "Maybe you could help Master Flamel."

"I doubt I'd be much help," Don said, modestly.

"Well, is there anything else?" Jess asked. When no one spoke up, she stood. "Everyone is dismissed."

Don put his arm around his wife as the rest of the Unspeakables gathered their dinner trash and left. He was looking forward to being home. To being alone with Jess.

O o O o O

Anna Malfoy sat in her favorite chair, legs draped over one arm and head resting on the other. She was already in her favorite teddy bear patterned pants and t-shirt. However, sleep was far from her mind. Carefully taking a sip of tea, trying not to spill with her cat resting on her stomach, she thought over the things she had seen.

The fact that she had entered Albus' mind without any problem spoke volumes. His mind had been an absolute mess, and it had been difficult to keep her own thoughts straight while probing his. Snippets of memories passed by, nothing truly standing out. A dark cloud tainted everything, pushing memories back and bringing out others.

She had noticed the memories being brought out were attached to emotions of pain and anguish. Fighting, lots of fighting, and death.

At this point she had floated on Albus' memories, trying to find the man in all this chaos. She could vaguely hear the voices and noises from the infirmary outside, but tuned them out. _Albus,_ she called, hoping for a response.

Suddenly, one memory was clear. She felt Albus close. Looking around the ruins of a house, she saw him. He was propped up against a wall, one leg and his wand arm obviously broken. She ran to him.

"Albus?"

He didn't seem to see her as he looked over the broken wall. Anna reached for him, then frowned as her hand went through him. He glanced up in puzzlement, then turned his focus back over the wall.

Ah, so he was reliving a memory. Anna had seen this a few times before while probing other people's minds. She knew that anything she tried would not affect the outcome of the memory. All she could do was watch and hope to catch Albus' consciousness before he slipped into the next. Anna looked over the wall, wondering what held his attention.

She saw herself. Anna furrowed her brow. The memory-Anna was standing in the center of the ruins, shouting incoherently.

Both her hands were balled in fists, and standing across from her was her cousin Lucius.

Lucius! Anna involuntarily took a step toward him, longing to speak to him again, before recalling that this was a memory. She felt her eyes well up with tears. Merlin, she missed him.

He was holding her wand, face distorted in a sneer. "So you've allied yourself with these mudbloods, have you?"

Eh? She definitely would have remembered this.

"You're the one who's allied with filth!" the memory Anna yelled.

_Go me!_ Anna immediately thought, then shook her head. Lucius wasn't the kind of man to let something like that slide, even from her. And why was he angry with her anyway? Working with mudbloods didn't automatically mean allying with them. Maybe this whole scenario was the poison talking? But it felt so real, at least, as if it was real to Albus.

"You have one chance," Lucius said, pointing his wand at her. "Join us now, and I will forget this."

"You bastard!" she shouted. "You think I would join you after what you did? I loved him!"

_Hello. What was that?_ The only male she considered herself to love was family. Lucius wouldn't kill family, right? Now it really didn't make any sense.

"Then there is nothing I can do," Lucius said, his customary drawl cold as ice. "_Avada Kedavra_."

Just before the AK hit her, she saw her chin go up, jaw clenched. It was as if she was just fine with dying. She didn't even jump out of the way.

Anna stood, staring at her own corpse, jaw hanging open, shaking. _Lucius? How could you do this?_

_Sorry, child_, the familiar mental voice of Albus Dumbledore said softly as she was forcibly pushed from his mind.

She had remained sitting in a chair, out of the way, shaken, near tears, until she realized there was nothing more she could do here. She had left the infirmary with no one taking notice.

Now, draped over her familiar chair, warm cat purring on her stomach, she again wondered. There was no question that the memory was real. Memories could not be completely fabricated without leaving a trace, though they could be exaggerated. Nothing about it made sense! The few other glimpses Anna had had were the same way. Therefore Albus himself must have had such memories already in his mind when the poison was administered.

Maybe they were former nightmares that had been expounded upon? It could be a memory of a nightmare. Although, if it was, it was the most coherent nightmare she had ever seen. She knew her own didn't flow nearly as logically. Given, she was no Dumbledore, and he was pretty sharp. Maybe his dreams were sharp, too?

Although, she _had_ dreamed before that Lucius was still alive. She ran her hand down her cat's back absently. But never had he been the instrument of her demise. Just thinking about it again made her eyes tear up. Alone in her home, she felt justified in letting the tears fall. No one else would ever see. The cat meowed in consternation, then grabbed Anna's hand with her claws and started licking.

Anna gratefully accepted the comfort, knowing that it would be a long time before she would sleep.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for all of your reviews, ^^. They've really helped us!

Coming soon: _Ties_


	22. Ties

Disclaimer: Really? We don't own this? Are you sure? Darn, must have been a dream then.

Questions Concerning:

_Hermione_: Sorry, she's not going to be coming in any time soon because, realistically speaking, how would we bring her in without totally distorting the plot?

* * *

**Part 22: Ties**

"Oh come on, you're not scared, are you?" Andrew Lorne whispered hoarsely to his girlfriend.

"Don't be silly!" Hazel replied, a little too vehemently. She was shivering, but the night was strangely clear. "I just think this is stupid."

The two teenagers stood just outside the Little Hangleton graveyard. It was nearing three in the morning, and Andrew was on a stupid quest to prove his manhood or something. Hazel thought it was ridiculous, mostly because he had dragged her along. The proposed jaunt through the ancient graveyard had seemed silly enough by day, but now, well, she would much rather be home, snug in her bed.

"What's that?" Andrew breathed, suddenly much stealthier.

Hazel hit him on the shoulder. Now he was _trying_ to scare her! He quickly pulled her behind a headstone and put his finger to his lips. Hazel mustered up the best scolding face she could and stared at him. Because of the clear night, she knew he could see her.

Andrew ignored her. He peeked around the headstone. Miffed at being ignored, Hazel sat on the ground and crossed her arms.

Suddenly she heard a voice. It sounded like it had been run through some sort of voice modulator, like the aliens in a movie she once saw. Interested in spite of herself, she peeked around the other side.

Several robed and masked figures stood in some sort of deliberate pattern with a, was that a cauldron in the middle? What were these people doing in a bloody graveyard in the middle of the bloody night? She spared a glare at Andrew again for bringing her there, then the voice spoke again.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given," it said. Something was placed into the cauldron. "You will renew your son." They were obviously deranged. Hazel shivered again. People who believed they could actually create something magical in a cauldron in the middle of a graveyard were normally something she would scoff at. Somehow at three in the bloody morning, it didn't seem so impossible.

"Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will revive your master," the voice spoke again. This time, another robed figure stood in front of the cauldron and the speaker held out, was that a knife?

The speaker slashed the bared throat of the other. Murder! Hazel shivered more violently now. What if they saw them? She and Andrew might be killed too. She wanted nothing to do with this. Hazel leaned close to Andrew and whispered, "Let's go, please." She put as much urgency as she could in her quiet voice.

Andrew seemed frozen in place. A look of pure fear was in his eyes. Hazel focused back at the bizarre ritual as the speaker placed the slain one into the cauldron. Maybe if they just stayed where they were, these insane murderers wouldn't kill them.

"Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken," the speaker said, a hint of triumph in the altered voice. That didn't sound good. Would they consider Hazel and Andrew enemies? But no, Hazel breathed in relief as the speaker dipped some kind of knife into the cauldron, then pulled it out and wiped it on those strange robes. "You will resurrect your foe."

The speaker then picked something up from the ground. From hazel's viewpoint, all she could see was that it was about the size of a baby. She knew, she just _knew,_ that it was no ordinary baby. There was something evil about it, not to mention the entire ritual. The speaker gently put the bundle in the cauldron.

Was the speaker drowning the baby? What was going on? Smoke started billowing from the cauldron, blue smoke. Hazel stared in wonder and horror.

What came out of it was worse. A snakelike head, followed by a pale, naked, sickly body billowed from the smoke and stepped out of the cauldron. The speaker handed another bundle to the…thing, and it pulled on robes similar to the others. It held some kind of stick in its hand…

…and turned directly toward Hazel and Andrew.

Hazel felt her eyes widen, and she heard a whimper from Andrew. She backed away as an expression of pure anger crossed the otherworldly face.

"You let the impure witness my awakening?" it, he, said, his voice trembling with rage. He raised the stick and pointed it at them.

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

O o O o O

Remus startled, finding himself outside Harry's room with the book he had been reading resting in this lap. What time was it? What had woken him?

He glanced at the clock on one of the nearby shelves.

3:00 am.

_Chirpchirp-Chirp!_

He whipped his head toward Harry's room, his sensitive ears suddenly catching much more than Fawkes' urgent chirps.

Whimpers.

Bolting up, ignoring the book hitting the floor, he dashed into Harry's room.

"NO!!!" Harry suddenly cried, fighting against his blankets that had managed to wrap around him.

The shattering of glass suddenly rocked the room, and the very air seemed to be drowning in magic. Books were flying off the rattling shelves now, Fawkes still chirping in alarm.

"Harry, _Harry_, what's wrong?" Remus asked as he came to the side of the bed.

Harry's hands were clasped to his forehead in obvious pain as he continued struggling. Remus pulled away the blankets, but Harry didn't seem to notice as he twisted about and groaned, gritting his teeth before wheezing, as if punched in the gut.

"Let me see, Harry, let me see." Remus managed to pry Harry's hands away.

Harry had stopped fighting, his eyes partly open with tears on the horizon. Remus couldn't see anything physically wrong with him.

Pulling Harry into a hug, Remus tried to still Harry's quavering form. "Shhh-shhhhh."

Harry stiffened and after a moment began to struggle again, turning his head away just in time as he emptied his stomach right there.

"It's okay, Harry. Just let it out," Remus said, patting his back, paying no mind to the mess.

Harry groaned and leaned into his shoulder afterward, catching his breath.

"Harry?"

Harry took in a quavering breath, tears covering his cheeks as he closed his eyes. Remus waited, but nothing could have prepared him for what Harry said next.

"He's back. Voldemort's back."

O o O o O

Severus paused in his writing, an odd feeling causing the back of his neck to prickle. He unconsciously rubbed his forearm before refocusing on the parchment.

Albus' condition didn't seem to be improving much, despite Harry's network. Severus had been checking on Albus every thirty minutes, and though he was calmer than before, it was clear the poison was still raging through his system, and his mind.

CRASH!

Severus shot up, ink spilling onto the desk as Nicholas jolted up from his slumber. The sound of shattering glass and shaking furniture echoed forth.

They heard a strangled yell, and then heavy breathing.

Severus and Nicholas hurried from their lab area, but couldn't help but stop just beyond the curtain.

They found the area in shambles, thick magical residue everywhere. Glass from the windows was all over the floor, and Albus' bed was on its side with the side cabinet positioned beside it. The pillow and blankets were in a pile in front of it. To Severus, it appeared to be makeshift cover.

"Just be still, my boy," they heard Albus whisper from behind the bed. "We're safe for now."

Severus glanced at Nicholas, worried. Nicholas remained as he was, staring at the overturned bed. Pomfrey then entered from the back.

"Albus?!" she asked, finding Albus sitting on the floor. She also noted the obscure looking rune network on the underside of the toppled bed just behind him. Severus slowly approached her, to see what she was seeing.

Albus shifted forward, as if he was in pain, but what was more alarming was _how_ he moved. It appeared as if he was helping support someone they couldn't see.

"Shhhh, it's alright, you didn't know. What's important is that you protected Harry." Albus was quiet for a long moment, but when he started talking again, it was clear he was having trouble keeping his voice level. "No, don't say such things, you're going to be—" It seemed as if he was interrupted, being argued with. "Shh . . . please—" Albus continued, emotion thick in his voice. "Just rest, you don't need to speak. . . . I know, I know. I-I'll tell him, but I'm sure he already knows. . . ." Albus took a few quavering breaths, as if realizing something incredibly painful that he didn't want to believe but knew was true. "Severus?"

Albus seemed to gently shake who he was holding, but it was clear Albus received no response as he tried to rouse the invisible form again, before he accepted the truth and bowed his head, failing to completely hold back a sob. "I'm sorry, Severus."

Nicholas moved beside Severus, his approach going unnoticed by Albus completely. They might as well have not been there.

"Albus?" Pomfrey asked, cautiously approaching.

He didn't respond, though leaned back against the bed, exhausted, his shoulder just touching the corner of the page Harry had taped to the bed's frame. Pomfrey waved her wand, scanning him, but from a distance.

Albus shivered, muscles tightening, before suddenly pushing back, causing the bed to fall completely and land with a heavy thud. Albus followed, the back of his head bouncing off the underside of the bed.

Pomfrey gasped and hurried forward, the information she was getting from her wand more than enough to alarm her further. Nicholas went forward as well, taking Albus' hand.

Albus suddenly struggled, flailing his arms about.

"Pomfrey?!" Severus asked, wanting to know what she was learning from her spells.

"I don't know, Severus! His mind is—"

"Harry!" Albus shouted, delirious. "Run!"

More glass shattered as the hair on the back of their necks stood on end.

"No! Minerva!" Albus cried as he continued to struggle against them, but he wasn't struggling as hard anymore. Severus wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. "No, please, no. . . ." he gasped, his eyes open but unseeing. "I'm sorry!" He was having trouble breathing now. Severus wondered how he was still able to speak. "I've failed. Hogwarts is lost!"

Had he been able to, he would have wept, but he had no breath to do so.

"He needs to breathe!" Nicholas exclaimed, muttering a spell under his breath. It did little to help.

O o O o O

Albus was in utter turmoil. He was in a layered nightmare, only it was real. His mind was making it so.

"Harry!" he cried, praying Harry was safe.

Where was he?

He couldn't breathe.

He couldn't see.

_This way._

Albus startled, trying to sense the source of the voice, but it was coming from everywhere and nowhere.

_Come_.

He felt his magic twist, an action he had little control over, but what concerned him more was the fact it was magic directly rooted to the bond between him and Harry.

He tried to sense more, stretching out his magic to search for answers.

His vision focused for a moment, revealing Nicholas and Severus above him, with a very frightened Pomfrey beyond them. Their lips were moving, talking to him, but he could not hear them. His body tensed, dark memories flashing once more.

"Riddle!" he roared, finding himself in front of the evil monster once again.

His magic pulsed, jarring him free of the memory, but painfully.

_This way. Do not linger. _

"Who are you?!" he shouted, unknowingly being heard by Nicholas and the others.

He received no answer, just a feeling of darkness approaching once more.

_Come._

He went, following the voice and pulling away from the layered shadows with strangled voices and echoing sounds of battle.

"Are you the one who spoke to Harry?" Albus asked in his mind. "Where are you taking me?"

_Out of the Shadow._

Albus didn't fight as he felt chaotic magic wrap around him, the feeling of stout protection and haste pushing away the advancing blackness.

_Follow._

And so he did, everything within him telling him to trust this voice, this whisper guiding him away from the darkness and into a void wrapped and warped by strands of magic and emotion.

O o O o O

Harry was still against Remus' chest, now merely sniffling. Remus slowly waved his wand at the mess and magicked it away.

"Sorry," Harry whispered, glancing to the place that had just been cleaned.

"It's alright, Harry. Sometimes that can happen," Remus answered calmly, though on the inside he was reeling. Harry's previous words of Voldemort being back were still ringing in his ears.

Harry grabbed 'Poon and reached for Fawkes in his bowl.

"I've got him," Remus said as he grabbed the bowl and gave it to Harry.

_Chirp_.

Harry held Fawkes close, the bowl against this chest with 'Poon as Remus held him. Harry didn't fuss, which immediately concerned Remus. Harry rarely allowed himself to be coddled in such a way by anyone.

"Alright?" he asked, looking at Harry's face.

Harry looked up, his scar, Remus idly noticed, seemingly more defined than usual. Must be the reflecting light.

Harry closed his eyes for a long moment before reopening them. He was clearly wary, and his eyes held a grimness Remus had never seen before.

"It was a nightmare, Harry. A bad nightmare, but you're awake now. What you saw wasn't real," Remus soothed, hoping his words would help.

"No, it was real," Harry stated softly, rubbing his scar. There was no hesitation or speck of uncertainty in his voice. It scared Remus.

"Harry, it's the poison in your Papa. It's making you both see things that aren't real," Remus said gently, trying to get Harry to understand. "Masters Flamel and Snape are trying to fix it."

"It was real. Voldemort got a body, I saw it. He—" Harry's eyes widened. "My blood!"

"Whoa, stay still, Harry. You need to rest."

"The vampires got my blood and used it in the ritual," Harry continued. "The vampires are working for him!"

"Harry, calm down! Voldemort isn't back, he couldn't be. You had a vivid and very scary nightmare, nothing more."

Harry stilled, slowly turning his eyes to Remus, clearly hurt by the man's denial. "Why don't you believe me?"

"Harry, I believe you saw what you're saying, but it didn't happen. It's from the poison. It wasn't real."

"No, I'm telling you, it was. I know the difference."

"Harry, your papa believes he's seeing horrible things too, but they're not real. How can you say that you can tell the difference but your papa can't?"

Harry clenched his jaw, his eyes hardening as he shifted Fawkes and 'Poon closer to himself. He then turned and moved away from Remus, the blankets bunching up around him as Fawkes quietly came to rest under his chin. Lying on his side with his back firmly facing Remus, Harry ignored the lump growing in his throat.

"I want to be alone."

To say Remus was stunned would have been an understatement. Harry's tone was no longer soft and steady, but was hard and flat, like an old soldier's.

"Harry, I know it felt real, but it wasn't. It was an image created by—"

"Get out."

It wasn't louder than his previous words, but was stronger, holding a power Remus could only recall Albus ever using in his voice. It was quite intimidating.

"Okay, Harry," he said, not knowing what else to do or say. "I'll be in the living room if you need me."

Harry didn't say anything.

O o O o O

Severus closed his eyes and brushed his hand against his forehead. They had just finished cleaning and repairing the infirmary after Albus' waking nightmare that eventually led to the great wizard's current condition. As far as they could tell, Albus was in a coma. There was very little detectable brain activity, which was quite disconcerting.

Albus was back on his bed, the rune network still residing under his bed's frame. Nicholas had refused to remove it, despite Pomfrey's pleas to do so.

"My dear, Madam, Fawkes insisted on leaving it be. Who are we to go against a phoenix?" he had said.

Severus hoped his mentor was right in his decision. When moving Albus and setting the bed right, the rune network had pulsed with an unnerving power. Severus didn't know what to think about it.

He glanced at the clock. It was now nearly five am.

Nicholas was sleeping in the cot, Severus having convinced him to rest.

Severus glanced at Albus through the curtains when he suddenly felt something he never wanted to feel again.

Unable to hold back a loud surprised gasp, his right hand flew to his inner left forearm. Pulling up his sleeve, nearly ripping it in his haste, his eyes fell upon what had been a mere smudge for the past five years, but what was now as dark as it had been the night it had first been placed.

"_Oh, Merlin_," Severus inhaled.

"Severus?" Nicholas asked, sitting up just beyond him.

"M-master." Severus slowly turned, the candlelight reflecting off his pale skin, the dark mass on his arm becoming even more defined as his hand tightened just above the shifting serpent and skull. "He's calling."

O o O o O

Jess woke up to Don shooting out of bed. Startled, Jess sat up, her eyes blinking a few times before focusing on Don's left arm.

"Don, your mark!" She could see the dark magic swirling around his arm sporadically.

"I know; it's burning like crazy." He was not pleased at all.

"It's active, how?!" Jess clamored out of bed.

"He's calling the Death Eaters to him," he said as he summoned his wand and conjured on his Death Eater garb. "I have to go."

Jess hugged him, pulling him close.

"I know."

"I'll be back as soon as I can."

And just like that, he was gone.

O o O o O

_Early Morning – Before Work Hours_

Vanessa snuck through the Ministry, smirking. Apparently those 'anti-vampire' measures the wizards had come up with either hadn't been put in place yet or were terrible. She had made it all the way to the elevators without incident. As far as she could tell, no one was around.

Instead of taking the elevators, she took the stairs, not wanting to get stuck if someone actually detected her. The master had told her to report to this new snake-guy-thing. Whatever. If he needed his little wand to kill mortals, she'd get it. At least, if it was in the Ministry, she would. Stepping out at the auror offices, she looked around. They didn't have any guards, trip wires, security cameras, or anything else remotely effective.

She shook her head in disbelief. This place was the base of the humans, their most important center. Yet she, one of the very vampires they tried to keep out, had simply walked in to retrieve the wand of a famous dark lord.

Vanessa walked past the receptionist's desk, keeping her eyes open for any hint of security. She saw nothing. Nothing she couldn't easily handle, that is. She saw a ward on the secretary's desk against opening it, but as that wasn't her goal, she ignored it.

She came to a door marked "Storage" in big gold and white letters. The door had a ward on it so that one had to give identification with a drop of blood. Normally, for a vampire that would be quite a problem. However, Vanessa happened to have a solution.

She pulled a small vial from her pocket. Uncorking it, she sniffed the delicate aroma. Her mouth grinned of its own volition. Blood, freshly taken. A Ministry worker on his way home from work.

She had only taken a bit in case she needed to bypass any wards. It had been a colossal act of restraint on her part not to take more than just the vial. He had that beautiful odor of magic clinging to his blood, one that she didn't often get to taste. Now she poured a drop (she would not waste any) on the pad reserved for that purpose.

The door opened. Simple. Wizards were so unimaginative. Which really didn't make sense, as they had magic nearly bursting from them. One would think they would be the most creative beings on earth, but that just wasn't true. Vanessa stepped through the door and saw shelf after shelf stretching on before her.

As predicted, each shelf was labeled with the date and the witch or wizard from which the items were taken. This would be easy.

Vanessa wished for a more challenging mission, preferably one that involved death, but searching for Snake-Eyes' wand was all she was allowed. As if she cared what they told her. She didn't take orders from mortals. Well, she reconsidered, at least not unless there was a likelihood those orders would lead to mass destruction and mayhem.

This was what made her different from most of her kind. The old ones went around completely detached from the world of mortals. They cared not whether the lesser races lived or died. They only fed on human blood when hungry, not for the intense pleasure of it. This meant they only killed every few months. The rest of the time was spent in study and meditation, bonding themselves to some higher intelligence or something.

She and a few others had completely broken with that way of life, if life it could be called. They loved the visceral beauty of a man bleeding that precious, delicious lifeblood into their mouths, the cry of the humans as they preyed on them. This was what made life worth living, and just thinking about it was sending tingles down her spine.

The shelf in front of her was labeled "October 31, 1981, Potters." Two wands. She picked up both of them and continued her search. There was no shelf labeled "You-Know-Who" or any such nonsense. One of these must be it. She looked around a little more, just to make sure.

She saw no other shelves belonging to that day. Very well. Pocketing the wands, Vanessa turned back to the door. It was still open, and no one had come to attack her. Shaking her head again at the stupidity of mortals, she made her exit. Once Snake-Face had his wand back, she was going hunting.

O o O o O

Albus stumbled, or at least that's what it felt like. He was surrounded by muffled noise and impenetrable fog. He didn't know where he was or how he had gotten there exactly. He had called out to the voice several times since he had started on this trek, but had yet to receive an answer.

He waited as the fog began to clear and he became aware of a presence. He felt the mist shift, his mind reaching out as he began to touch physical consciousness.

O o O

Within a blanket of darkness, Harry stood up, mist twisting about, hued by a whirling light that was more than simple illumination. It was magic. Preparing himself for another ominous nightmare, Harry shifted his stance as something emerged.

He felt a rush of energy and consciousness, allowing him to identify the entity instantly.

"Papa?!" Harry asked.

"Harry?" Albus asked, coming closer.

Harry nodded, hurrying to him. "How are you here?"

"I'm not sure, Harry, but I believe I heard that same voice you had heard earlier. She's why I came, and I feel it was just in time. I do not think I would have lasted much longer in that state." He exhaled a shaky breath. "It was very real. It was as if I was experiencing it all again, but for the first time, every time."

Harry hugged him, Albus kneeling down to his level.

"So, if you're here . . . does that mean you're not in your body anymore?"

"I am certain I traveled through the bond and into you. I was traveling for quite some time before I made it here."

"But I thought my runes would have helped you," Harry muttered, disappointed and regretful that he wasn't able to help despite his attempt.

"It did, for a little bit, but then something happened, overcoming its power," Albus said, trying to think of what had gone wrong. He looked down at Harry.

"Papa! Voldemort, he came back! I saw it all and my scar hurt worse than it ever did in the future. The vampire who escaped in Hogsmeade must have taken the knife that cut me."

"And used your blood?" Albus finished, horrified. He quickly grabbed Harry's hand and looked at it. Sure enough, there was a fresh cut on his hand over his old scar in the early stage of healing.

They were both still, thinking of what this could mean for them and the Wizarding World. Voldemort was back a mere five years after his fall, having used Harry's blood, but not only that, blood obtained from Harry's scarred hand. What would be the consequences magically? Not anything good for them, that was for sure.

"What are we going to do, Papa?"

"First, when you wake, we will talk with Nicholas. I think it would be prudent for me to get back into my body after the poison has been removed before we do anything else," Albus said. "Then we will get the Order back together and gather more allies. I will not repeat my failings from the future. The Wizarding World will not simply cave to Riddle. Until you wake, tell me everything you can remember from your vision."

Harry nodded before sitting in front of Albus and telling him everything that had transpired since Albus had first lost consciousness.

O o O o O

_5:30 am_

Minerva McGonagall walked through Hogwarts' halls, ready to catch any early-rising miscreants. Rarely did she find any, but patrolling the halls at all hours were what made that situation true. This morning, however, she wasn't quite as focused on her task as usual.

Albus had her worried. The poor man was suffering horribly, something so beyond his control that it was bleeding to Harry. That was why she was on her way to check on the boy. Remus was there, but if Harry was having nightmares like Albus was, he might need some help.

Arriving at the gargoyle hiding the Dumbledores' chambers, she said the password. "Peppermint swirls." The gargoyle moved aside and let her go up the spiral staircase. She moved briskly to the hidden entrance to the living quarters. She silently opened the door, mindful of waking Harry.

Remus was sitting in a chair next to Harry's closed bedroom door. An open book was in his lap, but he was looking up at the doorway where Minerva had just entered, wand drawn. As soon as he realized it was her, he slipped the wand back in his robe and leaned back in the chair. It was obvious the man was exhausted.

"Good morning, Remus," Minerva said. "Have you been up all night?"

"Most of it," Remus answered. His voice was flat and toneless.

"Well, a nice cup of tea should fix you right up," Minerva said. She knew Albus kept tea in the cupboard, and a small place to brew it so he didn't have to call for an elf each time.

"Thank you," Remus said while Minerva moved to begin brewing.

"Has Harry had any more nightmares?" she questioned.

Remus nodded tiredly. "He dreamed that Voldemort was back."

"You reassured him, of course?" Minerva asked. Poor child, to be dreaming such terrible things.

Remus hesitated. "He was very insistent that it was true. I tried to reason with him and remind him that it was just a dream, but he told me to get out."

That didn't sound like Harry. Even when he was just a babe, Harry had always listened to reason. Although he had nightmares, he knew what they were. Perhaps the poison was affecting him? However, something in the back of her mind was nudging her in another direction. For now, she ignored it. Making sure Harry was fine was the first priority, and she could deal with the 'why's' later. "What did you do?"

Remus spread his arms in a helpless gesture. "I came out here. He eventually went back to sleep, and hasn't woken up again."

Minerva gave him her 'scolding' look. "You didn't continue to reassure him? That doesn't seem like you."

Remus looked away. "What good would it have done? If my being there was making him feel worse, then how could I possibly help? I wasn't going to agree that Voldemort was back."

Although it went against the grain to leave a child alone when he was in distress, Minerva reluctantly agreed. At least Harry was asleep again, and it seemed peaceful. "Did you get any sleep?"

"I did before Harry woke up around, oh what was it?" Remus looked at his watch. "Three, I think. I don't want to go back to sleep in case he wakes up again."

Minerva nodded. Wait, three? '_It will happen three strikes past midnight.' _The prophecy! Good heavens! What if the old pretender had been right? She had been once before, after all.

"I need some air," Remus said, breaking into her thoughts. "Do you mind waiting here for a bit?"

"Not at all," Minerva answered automatically. She kept her face carefully schooled so as not to reveal her thoughts. The whole situation was insane! Now she was left with doubts and questions. How could a child dream of such a horrible reality, if reality it was? Was the prophecy a coincidence? Was the prophecy real? If so, what did the rest of it mean?

As Remus left the room, Minerva peeked into Harry's bedroom. The boy looked so innocent curled up with Fawkes tucked under his chin. She studied the regular rise and fall of both of their chests before quietly stepping back into the main room. She had much to think about.

O o O o O

_5:45 am_

Remus puttered around Hogwarts' grounds, worrying about Harry ordering him out. What he wanted to do, of course, was grab Harry up in his arms, tell him everything was ok, and have Harry tell him everything that was bothering him.

That didn't seem likely to happen, now. Harry had emphatically shut him out, simply because he had tried to console the boy. Harry didn't need to believe that the dark wizard who had killed his parents was back! It was too much for a six year old.

A tiny voice asked what would happen if the man was back. Remus knew that he would do what he came to do, protect Harry. Even if Harry couldn't stand to look at him, and Remus' heart was crushed once again, he would protect him.

"Why are you here?" Remus heard the familiar voice of his mentor ask. Provo was leaning against a tree, just on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Remus was surprised at how far he had come from Harry's room.

"I just need to clear my head," Remus said.

"You can't protect him out here," Provo said matter-of-factly. "Right now, you need to be inside. I can take care of this area." He spread his arms wide as if to encompass the entire outdoors.

"He doesn't want me there," Remus said with a sigh.

"So what?" Provo demanded. "You crossed an ocean for him, and you damn well better do your job."

Remus startled at his harsh tone. Provo was rarely reprimanding, and he let others make their own decisions. However, he had a point.

"Right," Remus said as he did his best to pull himself together. "I'll just go, then."

As he turned away, he saw a smile on Provo's face.

O o O o O

_6:15 am_

Nicholas Flamel studied the results of Albus' latest blood test. He frowned. The potion had not completely metabolized yet, but seemed to be growing stronger. He wondered if he should treat it like a virus rather than a poison, as ever since Albus had passed out earlier that morning, it had started attacking his nervous system. His nerves were slowly being eaten away. If it continued at this rate, Nicholas feared that by tomorrow evening, not even the best potions would be able to regenerate the nerves enough for Albus to be anything but a cripple. This adaptive behavior was like no other poison he'd seen, and he'd seen his share of poisons. However, it wasn't growing quite as quickly as it had been the last two tests, and Nicholas hoped that was a good thing.

He heard the door to the infirmary open.

After Harry had snuck in, Nicholas had placed a charm on the door so that he would be alerted. He wondered who would be coming in at this early hour, then glanced at the clock. 6:15 am, not that early, then. He had been up all night. It was nearing time to wake his young apprentice. Nicholas trusted Severus to study the potion correctly while he gained some much needed sleep.

He glanced around the edge of the curtains and saw Minerva McGonagall. Nicholas ducked back in unobtrusively, smiling. He knew Albus had a soft spot for her, and if he wasn't mistaken, she had one for him as well.

Perhaps when this was over, Nicholas would have a talk with young Dumbledore. Albus seemed to believe that age would get in the way of love. It was rubbish, of course. Why, Nicholas had met his darling wife when he was 237 years old! She had been nineteen at the time, and full of life. He and Perenelle had spent a long, long, happy life in each other's arms, and were still looking forward to the future together. When you spent a few centuries together, a tiny thing like age ceased to matter.

Besides, it was about time Albus found that child of his a mother. Harry liked Minerva, and he listened to her. Nicholas didn't really know what the problem was.

Nicholas waited a respectful amount of time before he went in to check on her and make sure she didn't have questions. He saw her gently stroking Albus' face, moving his long, wispy hair from his eyes.

Nicholas cleared his throat to make his presence known. Minerva turned away from Albus and looked him in the eyes, as if daring him to comment. "Is there anything I can help you with?" Nicholas asked.

"Actually, yes," Minerva answered in her brisk manner. "I was wondering if Albus was having nightmares around three this morning."

Nicholas was taken aback. Of all the questions he was prepared to answer, he had not expected this one. "Yes, he was definitely having nightmares then." Minerva looked relieved at this, which was odd. It must have to do with her reason for asking. "Although, that was when he fell into the coma. Why do you ask?"

"Harry was also dreaming," Minerva answered. "He told Remus that Voldemort was back, and that he'd used Harry's blood to do so."

Nicholas recalled his apprentice telling him about the dark mark activating. He didn't want to reveal Severus' past to someone who might not know, however, so he asked Minerva cautiously, "You are wondering if this is true or not. Is there something you have not told me?"

Minerva hesitated, then explained, "Yesterday, I was privy to a prophecy that seems to support what Harry dreamt. I don't particularly trust the source, however."

"Perhaps you could relate the prophecy to me. I have some experience discerning the truth in such things." He thought fondly of his wife, Perenelle, and her frequent visions.

Minerva seemed deep in thought, then she nodded. "'_It will happen three strikes past midnight. The Dark Lord will rise again with the aid of his other and will seek his others to strengthen further. He will then hunt the one he marked and the world will see true chaos. At three strikes past . . . the Dark Lord will rise.'"_

Nicholas nodded, years of hearing and seeing the unexpected helping him school his features. "I was afraid something like this might have happened."

Minerva looked confused at his simple acceptance. She seemed at a loss for words, then, suddenly, everything clicked. "Severus was called?"

Obviously, she knew of Severus' former affiliation, making an explanation much easier. "Yes, he was called around three this morning. He is through with that life, however, and remained here, where he is needed."

Minerva started pacing as she pieced together the information. Nicholas waited for her to come to a conclusion as he thought about Harry. Albus had told him about Harry's scar and its connection to Voldemort. Thus Nicholas had known for some time that Voldemort would return, just not when.

Minerva stopped pacing and looked Nicholas in the eye. Her chin was set in determination. "Thank you for your help. Please excuse me; my duties are waiting." He knew she would be up to something soon. Minerva was a fiery one when the situation called for it.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for all of your reviews, ^^. They've really helped us! And glad at least some of you are enjoying the Unspeakables (they are important characters after all :P)

Coming soon: _Issues_


	23. Issues

Disclaimer: Really? We don't own this? Are you sure? Darn, must have been a dream then.

Questions Concerning:

_Things being worse now than in previous timeline_: For those of you who have read some of my other stories, I almost always have an underlying purpose behind things, even when things appear so dire. However, let us (Throckmorton and I) point out that everything has consequences and we have tried to bring that truth into this story. The changes that Dumbledore has brought about to improve the wizarding world has disturbed the waters, so to speak. Also, the fact Harry unintentionally killed a number of death eaters that night has upset others as well. So don't worry, all will be sorted out and explained. Thanks for having faith :P

_Speed of time within story_: We know we have been focusing on individual days and have been moving slow, but there's a reason for that. The events happening are important and can't simply be summed up (or at least well). Don't worry, things will move along shortly.

* * *

**Part 23: Issues**

_7:00 am_

VAMPIRES SLAIN BY DUMBLEDORES

Rosemerta shook her head at the newly delivered Daily Prophet article that was lying on the bar. Those poor people needed rest and recovery, not a bunch of fans poking around. She wished the Dumbledores a speedy recovery, of course, and worried about them. However, she knew better than to try and visit them. Instead, she surveyed her trashed bar. One of the barmaids was magicking a table back together, difficult work since it had been blasted into tiny pieces, by Dumbledore against one of the vampires if she remembered correctly.

She picked up a broom and began sweeping large pieces of, well, everything toward the dustpan. Her broom stuck to some of the still tacky puddles on the floor. A few well placed spells would clean the place faster, but Rosemerta felt she needed the physical labor to settle her thoughts and emotions.

She was unsure if she would ever see the once cozy bar in the same way again.

O o O o O

_7:00 am_

Aberforth Dumbledore glanced over the morning paper in disbelief. Again with the vampires! His older brother sure knew how to get in trouble. He would pull through, though, he and that boy always did.

Albus had actually come and apologized for everything that happened when they were younger right after he adopted the Potter heir, but even so, they didn't see much of each other. After all, Albus had Harry to take care of, and a school full of miscreants. As for Aberforth, well, those goats didn't milk themselves, since the Ministry apparently frowned on that. Aberforth found that out the hard way.

Thinking of his goats led him to wander to the stable. Albus would be fine; Aberforth had no doubt about that. As for those vampires, if they showed their ugly faces around here again, he would personally deck them.

O o O o O

_8:00 am_

RDHPIT had already had a long day, beginning at 5:45 am when Jess summoned everyone to an emergency meeting. Don had just come back from a Death Eater gathering, presided by a newly resurrected Voldemort.

Don briefed everyone on the plans that were revealed, which were mainly to rebuild the Dark Lord's power base. Members were praised for their attentiveness and encouraged to find others who could also serve. Don had noticed a member he didn't know standing by Voldemort's right hand. The person was responsible for raising Voldemort, and also was allied with vampires.

He had listened hard to find out how Voldemort was resurrected, but nothing was said on the matter except that this one person had facilitated it. Based on his knowledge of the Horcruxes and Voldemort's appearance, Don knew it was a dark ritual probably involving blood both willingly and forcefully given. The end product was hideous, more demon than man, but it was a visage that would inspire fear in the weaker minded masses.

The right hand person's identity was not revealed, but it was clear they and Voldemort were close. A vampire had been sent to retrieve the Dark Lord's wand, though Don knew that it hadn't been found on the scene and most likely, Albus Dumbledore had it. He itched to know who the person responsible for the vampire attacks was, but had no opportunity to find out during the meeting. Hopefully, as things progressed, Don could find out their identity as well as finish his original mission to take out Voldemort.

Now, at eight in the morning, three of them were approaching Hogwarts to see the Dumbledores. With Anna's report about Albus, Jess wanted to see him and see if she could identify what was happening to him. Anna was coming back to see if anything more could be gathered from the man's frantic mind, and Don just didn't want to let Jess out of his sight, even though he was dead tired.

"Hello, Hagrid," Anna said as they approached the big man. Hagrid had a bundle of what most people would say were small trees in his arms.

"Er, hullo," Hagrid answered, suddenly noticing them. The three had decided to approach someone to be escorted inside rather than just go themselves. It would probably raise fewer eyebrows in the long run.

"I was here yesterday to see the Headmaster," Anna explained. "How is he doing?"

Hagrid set down the bundle next to his hut and clapped his dusty hands on his coat. "Yer one o' them unspeakables, right?"

"Yes, we are," Anna answered.

Hagrid nodded, tears dripping from his eyes. "The Headmaster is in a coma. Master Flamel don't know when he'll wake up."

"Take us to him, please," Jess said authoritatively. It was much worse than they had anticipated, then.

"Well," Hagrid said contemplatively. "He ain't s'pposed to have visitors, but seein' as yeh know about stuff..."

Anna shifted impatiently as Hagrid thought. Don tapped his foot and Jess just stood completely still.

"I'll take yeh," Hagrid said suddenly. "Please help 'im"

O o O o O

It had been a crazy morning for Rebekah. From the moment Minerva had given her an update on Albus and told her the bleak goings on surrounding it all, she knew it would get worse before it would get better. Knowing this, she agreed with Minerva that having Harry play with Luna was a good idea. The poor child needed to be distracted. However, things only got more complicated when they arrived at Hogwarts.

She headed to the infirmary first, as one of the house elves, Fidget, was more than happy to escort Luna up to Harry. Upon entering the infirmary, she found she was not the only visitor. She had of course known about Flamel and Snape, but not an Unspeakable.

"Uh, hello," she greeted, announcing her presence to Madam Pomfrey who was speaking with the obvious Unspeakable just in front of a curtained off area.

"Rebekah, I'm glad you're here," Poppy said as she noticed Rebekah glance at Anna. "This is Unspeakable Anna. Two others, Jess and Don are with Master Flamel. They're friends' of Albus' and are here to help."

Rebekah slowly nodded, quickly recognizing their names before concluding who they were and the fact she had done the mental evaluations of them all. Due to her clearance, the charm they used when on missions did not affect her.

Donald Kringle: Paranoid and Unrelenting.

Jess Kringle: Determined and Reserved.

Anna Malfoy: Erratic and Bemused.

A good group of people, despite being oddballs.

O o O o O

Luna skipped after Fidget, the house elf, before coming to the entrance with the gargoyle. Fidget waved his hand, causing the door to open and the stairs to reveal themselves. She hurried up them, eager to play with Harry.

"Luna, right?" Remus asked as she entered.

Luna nodded shyly, never having met him before, but if he was up here, he was okay. Everyone knew how protective the house elves were of Harry. If someone was here who shouldn't be, woe to them. . . .

"Young Master Harry in his room, Ms. Lovegood. Fidget will leave you now," he said, before giving a bow to Luna and Remus and disappearing.

Luna looked at Remus before turning her attention to door of Harry's room.

"Well, Luna, I'm Remus Lupin. I assume you're here to play with Harry?"

Luna didn't respond to Remus' question, but continued to stare at the door.

"Um. . ." Remus said, a little confused with Luna. He tried redirecting her attention. "I'm sure Harry will be up soon, but until then, how about doing something? I know the Headmaster keeps some toys for Harry in his office. How 'bout it?"

Remus was stumped. The kid was acting as if he wasn't even there! He was about to go and block the door when she suddenly turned and looked at him with very serious eyes.

"Something's wrong I think. Harry's stuck," she stated.

Remus frowned, unease rising within him for some reason. He went to the door.

"I'll check on him," he said.

He opened the door and entered. Harry was perfectly still. A bit too still for Remus. Luna stepped in from behind him.

"Uh-oh," Luna muttered.

Remus decided to ignore her as he went to Harry's side, hoping Harry would no longer be upset with him.

"Harry?" Remus asked, tentatively placing his hand on his shoulder.

Harry didn't move, his breathing slow and steady.

"Harry, it's Remus. Luna's here. Don't you want to play?" he asked gently.

Nothing.

"Harry?" Remus asked, now very concerned as he gave Harry a little shake. "Harry, come on, wake up!"

Luna hurried to the other side of the bed, opposite Remus.

"Fidget!" Remus called.

"Fidget is here, Mr. Remus, sir. What cans Fidget get for yous?"

"Harry isn't waking up, go get Madam Pomfrey!"

Fidget gasped before popping away.

O o O o O

Jess stood close to Don as she and the others listened to Severus Snape, Nicholas Flamel's apprentice, talk about Albus' condition. He had been loath to part with information to strangers at first, but once Jess showed him her official Unspeakables' card, he had grudgingly parted with details. This was a good thing, because she preferred people to part with information willingly, especially when they were all on the same side.

And she knew they were on the same side. Don had reported that Snape, who Albus had vouched for, had not been at the meeting. Apparently he really had turned over a new leaf, and the fact that he was openly still here at Hogwarts despite defying the Dark Lord spoke volumes about his confidence.

Severus told them that the poison was now working physically rather than purely mentally, and that Albus was nonresponsive to any mental probing. Jess glanced over at Anna, who was looking intently at the curtain guarding Albus' bed. She was frowning, confirming what Severus was saying.

"May we see him?" Jess asked after Severus finished his explanation.

"Why?" Severus asked.

"Because I can see magic," Jess answered. "I might be able to see something others missed."

Severus thought for a moment, obviously not wanting to let them in, but unable to stop them without violating Ministry regulations regarding the Unspeakable department. "Very well, I will let you see him."

Jess smiled at him and followed him through the curtain, Don close behind with his hand on her shoulder. Anna, who had seen Albus the day before and knew how small the space was, stayed behind. She wanted to talk to Madame Pomfrey about Harry's condition, anyway.

Jess stood in front of Albus, analyzing the conflicting magicks in his body. She saw his swirling magical core, blending with the bits of chaotic magic she had come to know in the last few years. However, it was tainted by a dark blotch that was expanding from the man's mind. Tiny dark fragments had reached as far as his chest, but the main bulk remained in his head.

She walked up to his face and looked down, hoping closer scrutiny would reveal more. The darkness had completely taken over. She couldn't see anything resembling a consciousness. This was bad. It reminded her of victims of the dementors' kiss, a living body without a soul.

Had the poison taken it over? Was it simply too thick for her to see through to the soul beneath? Was he dead? Jess drew in a short breath before looking further. The bond was gone.

Albus was dead? No, on second examination, the bond was intact, a thin string, but no magic flowed through it. In fact, a bit of chaotic magic blocked the end so no dark magic could flow through. What did that mean? Was Harry connected to the body? The only bonds she knew of were from soul to soul.

So then he was alive? Maybe his mind was just somewhere else? She hadn't heard of anything like that happening, but it was possible, she supposed. Maybe Anna would know more about it.

Jess gave Albus another once over, making sure she missed nothing as a distraught house elf popped just beyond the curtain in front of Pomfrey.

O o O o O

_8:30 am_

Michael Bear set the morning paper on his desk, waiting for his first class to begin trickling in. Even though he already knew much of what had happened, he had read the paper. It was good to know what the public at large knew, which was simply that rogue vampires had once again attacked the Dumbledores and they were recovering at Hogwarts.

Classes had continued, despite the Headmaster's injuries and illness. Minerva, as Deputy Headmistress, had seen to that. It was better not to worry the children. After all, if classes were continuing as normal, then everything must be fine.

Although, Michael knew very well that things were not 'fine' at all. Albus was in serious trouble, and though Harry seemed to have come out of the worst of his injuries, there still seemed to be something wrong. However, he had to put on a good face for the students, so he sent up a quick prayer and hit himself with a cheering charm, just as the first student opened the door.

"Good morning, Mr. Yamsley," he said.

The red-haired seventh year sat in his customary chair. "So I heard the Headmaster is dying or something?"

Michael sighed. It would be a long day.

O o O o O

_8:40 am_

Anna Malfoy, Madame Pomfrey, and Rebekah Lovegood ran up stairs and down corridors to the Dumbledores' chambers. Anna made a mental note to start exercising as Pomfrey and Rebekah ran ahead and she was puffing just to keep up. She hit a stair with her foot (it wasn't even moving!) and sprawled almost on her face. Luckily, she caught herself and used the momentum to propel herself the rest of the way up. The others looked behind, but at seeing her get up and continue running, they didn't stop.

Anna preferred it that way. It was better that they get to Harry than for them to stop on account of her bruised pride. It wasn't as if tripping over nothing was new for her, after all.

They soon reached the entrance to the Dumbledores' chambers. Remus Lupin was waiting for them, an anxious look on his face. He stood aside to let Pomfrey, who was first, brush by. The three women, Remus right behind them, entered Harry's room.

Pomfrey had her wand out and waving before the rest were even in sight of Harry's bed. Rebekah hurried over to a little girl, her daughter Luna, Anna surmised, and pulled her into a hug, asking quietly what had happened.

Anna concentrated on Harry. His mind was much less protected than usual, and she entered, eager to see how his mental processes worked. Though there had been nothing keeping her from entering, his memories were locked behind closed doors. Although curious, Anna didn't want to break in without just cause, since the smallest change could bring about total mental instability. Having experience in that area, she did not wish it on anyone.

Based on the feel of his mind, she knew he was not asleep. Perhaps he was in a meditative state? So she passed the closed doors, trying to find his consciousness. Harry's mind was extremely well ordered, but with his intelligence, and the possibility that he was magic incarnate, this was to be expected.

Now she heard voices. That was generally a bad thing, in her experience, but she withheld judgment. Sometimes voices could be helpful, after all. Proceeding through the halls of Harry's mind with more caution, she strained to hear what the voices were saying. Harry was having a conversation with Albus, it sounded like. Something about letting Albus take the lead and it being what they would expect, whoever 'they' were. Albus should be in his own body, not here. Maybe Harry conjured the image of Albus in order to sort his own thoughts? Although unusual, it was not unheard of. Anna moved closer, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever was going on.

Then, Harry's consciousness said, 'hold on Papa, I have a visitor.' Anna was forcibly pushed from his mind as multiple barriers shot from Harry's core, protecting him from further intrusion. Mentally frowning, she brought her concentration back to the physical world, where Madame Pomfrey was uncorking a vial of potion for Harry.

She dripped a bit down Harry's throat and rubbed his neck, causing Harry to swallow. "What is that?" Rebekah asked.

"It should wake him, even though he's not in REM sleep," Madame Pomfrey answered. "Harry?" she questioned as she leaned over him and gently shook his shoulder. "It's time to wake up."

Anna waited to see what happened. Harry didn't wake up.

"He's not asleep," Anna offered as Madame Pomfrey waved her wand over the boy, gathering new readings.

"Do you know what is happening?" Rebekah asked as she held her daughter.

Anna shrugged. "He's talking to Albus. Whether the actual Albus or a figment of his mind, I don't know." She heard Remus gasp.

Harry remained asleep.

Madame Pomfrey lowered her wand. "I don't want to give him anymore potions. That could seriously harm his system. It looks as if we will have to wait this out. If he hasn't woken up after another hour passes, I would suggest taking him to St. Mungo's so the mind healers can look at him. In fact, the only reason Albus isn't there now is because Master Flamel is here, and he has more experience with potions and poisons than any of the healers at the hospital."

Rebekah nodded. "My experience with mind healing is with psychological damage, so this is somewhat out of my league."

"So we will wait," Madame Pomfrey said decisively. "Luna, perhaps you would like to read one of Harry's books while we wait?"

Luna looked at everyone standing there, then looked at Harry. "When you get the Bombus out of him, let me know," she stated seriously.

Anna smiled. Kids were strange.

O o O

_Ten Minutes Later_

Harry opened his eyes and immediately sat up, to the surprise of those in the room. Pomfrey had her hand over her chest, not having expected the sudden movement from the previously motionless child. Remus, who had been sitting in a chair not far from Harry's bed, was now on his feet. Anna was by the door with Rebekah, while Luna was busy with a book in the corner.

"I need to talk to Nicholas, right now," 'Harry' said, getting off the bed with impressive ease.

He actually brushed Pomfrey's hands away when his feet came to rest on the floor.

"Get back in that bed right now, young man!" Pomfrey admonished him.

"I must speak with Nicholas; it can't wait," he stated.

"Harry, how do you feel? Is everything alright?" Rebekah asked, understandably confused.

"I feel as well as can be expected, considering the circumstances; but no, everything is not alright, which is why I must speak with Nicholas. Things are in motion and we cannot afford to stand idle." 'Harry' began walking to the door.

"Albus?" Anna asked.

Rebekah turned to Anna with a completely dumbfounded expression. "What?" she asked.

"Yes, my dear?" 'Harry' answered innocently, his eyes . . . twinkling?

Hearing the words that Albus often said coming from the mouth of a child was disconcerting, to say the least, but finding Harry's stance and facial expression resembling the esteemed headmaster . . . it was utterly bizarre.

"You're not in your body?" Anna questioned.

"Alas, no, I am not, which is why I must go speak with Nicholas," 'Harry' said, now making his way to the door, the adults at a complete loss.

Luna, on the other hand, was completely at ease, appearing as if she knew exactly what was going on and was okay with it. She moved forward and took Harry's hand.

"I'll go with you, Bombus-Harry, I've always wanted to meet St. Nicholas," Luna said simply.

"Of course, child, I would be happy to escort you, as long as your mother says it is alright," 'Harry' said, looking to Rebekah.

"I . . . suppose," she managed, before growing concerned and asking, "Wait, where's Harry, Albus?"

'Harry' tapped the side of his head. "In here, with me."

That seemed to calm Rebekah somewhat as she nodded, 'Harry' now leading the way to the Infirmary with Luna in hand.

O o O

'Harry' and the others arrived in the infirmary without much trouble. With the headmaster leading them, they were able to take a number of shortcuts and make it there without being seen.

"Harry, what are you doing here?" Don asked, coming out from behind the curtain before he looked to Rebekah and Anna for further explanation.

"I need to talk with Nicholas," he stated, not even pausing as he continued to the curtain.

"Why?" Don couldn't help but ask as Severus came out to see what was going on.

"Good afternoon, Severus," 'Harry' said, having released Luna's hand a few steps before, but he wasn't able to go much further before a hand firmly took hold of his shoulder.

"Your Papa is resting, Harry, you're not allowed back there right now," Severus said.

He was clearly tired and at the end of his rope. Finding he would have to handle yet another thing (a child) certainly wasn't helping things.

"Mr. Snape, he needs to talk with Master Flamel," Anna stated.

"Master Flamel and Unspeakable Jess are with the Headmaster. They are trying something right now," Severus answered, still holding Harry's shoulder.

"Are they? Well then, I really must speak with my old friend." 'Harry' moved to continue on his way, trying to gently pull free from Severus' grip, but Severus' hand remained firm.

"You may be used to going wherever you wish here in the castle, but this situation has no room for such childish presumptions. Your papa is very sick right now. Anything you have to say to Master Flamel will have to wait."

"Normally, you would be right, my boy, but this is not childishness. I must speak with Nicholas. I'm afraid, due to the circumstances, that you are understandably confused. Let me clear this up, I'm—"

"No, let me clear it up for you, as you do not understand the seriousness of this situation,_ child_. You are not an adult, but a child. You cannot expect to go wherever you please, there are rules and things you just can't do without permission."

'Harry' gazed up at him, not cowed or impressed with Snape's words at all.

"Severus, I swear on my magic that I, the one who is currently speaking from this body, am not Harry, but Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," 'Harry' stated as the unmistakable magic of a confirmed oath swirled around them. "Now, I really must speak with Nicholas as I am sure Harry would like to have control of his body back without me floating around in his mind."

Severus was utterly thunderstruck, but he managed to compose himself well enough to step aside.

"Thank you, Severus," 'Harry' said as he then pushed past the curtains.

Nicholas and Jess were on either side of Dumbledore's bed, evidently having been prepared to do something; however, they were currently staring at 'Harry', just having heard his oath.

Jess was squinting at him, as if he was extremely bright.

"My, I really do look dreadful, don't I? That poison is really doing a number on me."

"Albus?" Nicholas asked.

"Nicholas, I must speak with you immediately," 'Harry' said.

"Of course, Albus," Nicholas said.

"Poppy, I'm going to borrow your office for a moment," he said, already heading back.

"Certainly," Pomfrey managed.

"Nicholas, if you would please?" 'Harry' asked, waving his hand about.

"No prob—" They heard Nicholas say as he put up a multitude of privacy wards up.

O o O o O

_9:00 am_

Luna stood in the infirmary, looking around. There were so many adults here, and the room felt like hurting and sadness. The adults were standing around, being worried. Luna wondered why they were so worried. Weren't adults supposed to be smarter? They could fix anything. Luna knew this because her mother fixed her up when she scratched herself on the porch the other day.

But maybe not all adults knew everything, Luna mused. Maybe it was only Mothers and Fathers. She wondered if any of these adults had kids. If they did, maybe she could play with them. She liked to play. But there were no kids here, except Harry, and he was talking with St. Nicholas. She looked back at her mother. Mother was worried, too, Luna knew. Something about Harry's Papa being sick. Harry's Papa was strong, though, so Luna didn't know why everyone was so worried.

Luna walked quietly over to a large set of shelves. It was really interesting, filled with bottles and beakers and other things. Luna clasped her hands behind her back, knowing she shouldn't touch anything. Mother had a similar set of shelves in her office, but they were much smaller. Mother had said only sick people could drink the potions on those shelves.

Luna wasn't sick, so there was no need to try the potions. But maybe one would help Harry's Papa. Luna looked back at the adults. They were still standing around, talking in hushed voices. Luna's mother glanced over to show that she knew where Luna was. Luna smiled back.

Glancing back to the shelf, Luna started reading the labels she could see. That was boring, though, because the names meant nothing. Didn't Daddy say it was what was done with magic that was important? She wondered what all these were for. That shiny purple one, did it make people hurt less?

She knew the adults in the room were hurting, even though they weren't lying on the beds. It was clear that they were in pain. Her mother had pain like this when she talked to some of her patients. Mother called it a 'burden,' but Luna knew it hurt. She frowned as she looked them over.

Luna knew the hurts they felt couldn't be cured by potions. She watched them, hands still clasped behind her back.

Mother always said children were a joy, that seeing Luna lifted the weight of the world off her shoulders. Maybe there was something Luna could do for these adults. The closest adult was a man with long, black hair. He looked really tired, like Daddy did after a day of hunting wrackspurts. She knew what helped Daddy when he was tired.

Having made her decision, Luna walked up to him. He was standing away from the other adults, watching them much like she was. Luna tugged on his black robes. He pulled away, glaring down.

Luna could tell the glare was empty, so she proceeded. "Mr. Healer? Would you like a glass of warm milk?"

He blinked, opened his mouth, then blinked again. "I am not in the habit of drinking such things, Miss Lovegood."

"Your bones won't grow right if you don't drink milk," Luna admonished. Mother had told her that before.

The dark man's lips twitched, and he brought his full attention on Luna. "My bones have already grown completely."

Luna thought about this for a moment. "You must drink milk if you're so tall."

"I did when I was still growing, but now I am in no need of it."

"Yes you are," Luna argued. "You'll get ostriopolis if you don't drink it." Now she was pointing at him, appalled at such disregard of this very important beverage.

"I'll have what?" the man asked, thrown off balance.

He must not have heard of that terrible disease. "It's where your bones shrivel. You'll get all short like my grandmother was, and your bones will creak and crack. It's really bad."

He blinked again, then said, "You mean osteoporosis?"

"That's what I said!" Luna declared.

"Luna!" her mother exclaimed, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. "Don't bother Mr. Snape."

Luna turned around to face her mother. "He doesn't drink milk!" she accused. "He's going to get all weak and woobly like grandmother did. Make him drink it! He's too nice to be like that."

"Luna! Behave!" Mother said. "He's old enough to decide such things for himself."

Mr. Snape bent down until he was on face level with Luna. "I am not nice," he said. "I'm mean and snarky, and I don't like kids."

"No, if you were mean, you wouldn't be helping Harry's Papa," Luna pointed out. Really, adults were just silly sometimes.

Mr. Snape stood, his eyebrows raised. "I have other matters to attend to, Miss Lovegood." Without another word, he turned and walked through the curtain hiding Harry's Papa.

Luna was satisfied. Now he knew just how nice he really was, and he could stop hurting over past mistakes. And if he drank more milk, that was good too.

O o O o O

Jess watched as Madame Pomfrey waved her wand over Harry's body, ensuring that no new damage had been caused. Nicholas Flamel had gone back to Albus' body, working with his apprentice to continue finding a cure for the poison. Remus was standing close by, wringing his hands. Rebekah Lovegood was holding her young daughter, who was remarkably calm despite the tension in the infirmary. Anna watched 'Harry' with her head slightly tilted, showing she was deep in thought. Don stood behind Jess, grasping her shoulders in both a comforting and possessive manner. She smiled lightly despite what she saw happening with Harry.

Harry's double core and Albus' bright one were forced against the walls of Harry's body and each other. A magic 'corona,' much larger than usual, also extended from the boy's body. It almost hurt to look at them, just as looking at the sun burned. The two cores pulsed and pushed, balking at being squeezed in the very small body of Harry Dumbledore. This wouldn't be able to continue for long. Even though Harry and Dumbledore were allies, family in everything but blood, magic naturally fought when there wasn't enough space for it.

In fact, that was largely the reason muggle items weren't supposed to be enchanted. Since muggles didn't build things with magical capacity in mind, the magic being forced into them would lash out and often harm the user, trying to find a larger 'container.' Too many different spells caused the magic to fight, which usually resulted in explosions.

People were different in that they had a much larger magical capacity, independent of size. However, when enough magic was forced into one place, the same principle applied. In fact, if it weren't for their bond, which she could see still connecting the two cores, the magicks would probably already have destroyed each other and Harry's body. It all boiled down to one conclusion.

They had to get Albus out of there, and soon.

Looking at their magicks, Jess gave them two days at most before Harry's body would be destroyed. Albus probably knew, as there was a look of worry in his eyes while he waited patiently for Madame Pomfrey to finish.

Jess sent this thought over to Anna and watched as her eyebrows raised and she looked closer at Harry. Jess reached up and grasped Don's hand, which was still on her shoulder. _What's the matter, baby? _he asked mentally.

She relayed the information to him as well and felt him stiffen.

"Well, there doesn't seem to be any physical damage," Madame Pomfrey said. "However, this forced possession of sorts probably isn't doing any good for either of your magicks."

"No," Jess answered. "You have to leave his body within two days."

'Harry' looked up to Jess. "I had assumed something similar."

O o O o O

_10:00 am_

Voldemort seethed as he prepared the horcrux ritual. He had just come from a long discussion with the underling who called herself 'the Master,' and he was not pleased with what he heard.

First of all, no minion of his, even the one who took the initiative to bring him back, should call themselves a 'Master.' It made it seem like Voldemort, the most feared Dark Lord since Grindelwauld, was the follower. This he could not have. He would teach her her proper place in his kingdom.

Secondly, the state of the Wizarding World had fallen much since his dominion. Blood was less of an issue, and people were saying his name instead of cowering in fear. That had to change.

But before any of that could be addressed, he had to finish out his horcruxes. Splitting his soul into six would do him no good. Only a magical number would do. The vessel for his sixth horcrux lay on the table before him. Nagini, his familiar. She was a thing of beauty, deadly, supple, graceful. Not unlike himself when he was at his best. She had offered herself for this task, and now graced his hand with her delicate tongue.

The murder had already occurred, a couple of mudbloods who witnessed his reanimation. All that remained, then, was to place part of his fragmented soul into Nagini. He ran his hand down her body, relishing the cold, dry hardness of her scales as he felt for magical defects. There were none.

He gently placed both hands on her, concentrating inward, to his magical core. He felt it, dark power swirling around what remained of his soul, the two soul pieces already pulling apart in anticipation. Feeling even more powerful than before, he reflected that using the Potter boy's blood had been a good decision. A tendril of his newly bolstered magic connected with the magic inside Nagini and guided one of the soul fragments from his core, down his arm, and into the snake.

She began thrashing as the unfamiliar energy entered her body. Having expected this, Voldemort remained calm and continued guiding his soul to her core, where it would be safe.

The moment it penetrated her core, however, everything went wrong. An unfamiliar magic shot from his core and grabbed the soul piece. The magic itself was screaming, layered voices in a garbled mess. Voldemort fought against the unknown enemy, fighting for the soul piece.

Nagini thrashed, hisses and foam coming from her mouth. "Massster!" she wailed as the magic completely took over her body.

Deep in the screams, Voldemort heard one word.

"**Abomination!**"

The magic wrapped around the soul fragment until Voldemort could no longer feel it. The entire room became heavy, the new magic saturating Nagini. It pulsed and warped, shattering the soul. The Dark Lord yanked his hands back as the magic began devouring his beloved snake's life force. He reached his hand toward his familiar as she suddenly stopped thrashing and simply disintegrated.

The screams ceased. The heaviness disappeared.

Part of his soul was destroyed. Nagini was dead. Voldemort stared at the small pile of dust on the table in shock.

Then the anger surfaced. Voldemort blasted the table to pieces, making sure the shards embedded themselves into the walls. Screaming foul curses, he shattered everything in the room. When everything was destroyed, he stared around, his usual satisfaction he gained from destroying things barely present. Destroying the room hadn't been enough.

Well, he was on the edge of a muggle village. He knew just the curses he would use on them, too. He smiled a humorless smile. He would make someone pay.

O o O o O

_10 am_

Nicholas pinched the bridge of his nose as he looked down at his former apprentice. He had put Albus' body in stasis to greatly slow the progression of the poison. Now that he knew Albus was not actually in his body anymore, he could fight the poison from a different angle, without fear of damaging Albus' mind.

What he and Albus had discussed moments before was immensely troubling. According to Albus, Harry had a connection with Voldemort, and, evidently, Voldemort had just been raised in a dark ritual. Nicholas informed Albus of the prophesy Minerva had heard and told him he was sure Minerva was making plans to get the Order together. He could tell Albus approved of that, as Harry's eyes had twinkled. But they went back to glum when he told Nicholas the new danger he and Harry were currently in.

Albus needed to return to his body as soon as he could. Harry's large amount of magic and his own were currently under serious strain, being compressed into one body — a body that already had a double core. Albus didn't know how much time they really had, but he was certain it couldn't be more than three days before their magicks would essentially rebel.

Albus had also told him about what he had deemed, 'the voice'. What was it? Why was it communicating with them, and why, he assumed, was it helping them? Nicholas had a theory, one that stretched what most believed to be possible concerning magical consciousness. From what Nicholas could figure, somehow a consciousness had manifested from their magicks, and was making some rather serious decisions for them. He knew old magical properties could develop a form of intelligence, but he had never heard of any sort of magical consciousness communicating in the way Albus had described. With words and a voice.

Initially, Nicholas thought it could be a spirit of some kind that had managed to enter Harry's core, but he ruled that out because no such entity would have the powers to move Albus' mind into Harry's body, even with the bond and rune network. The only way Albus could have moved was if his magic had been displaced somehow and carefully placed alongside Harry's dual core.

Nicholas' mind wandered. Harry's magic, it had chaotic properties. Could that be the key?

There were not many documented cases of chaotic magic because it was very rare. Could Harry's chaotic magic have developed true awareness? A will, a personality, a conscience? Everything Albus had said was pointing to that being a possibility.

Nicholas turned back to his work. The potion was due for those ten stirs. Severus was busy analyzing the newest blood sample from Albus.

Nicholas glanced over at Harry, who was being examined by three Unspeakables. Remus was next to Harry's bed, though he seemed to be having trouble deciding exactly where and how to stand. The circumstances probably had his nerves all tied up in a knot. Poor man.

Nicholas shook his head, the sound of giggling coming to his ears. Counting the final stir, he put the potion aside to boil for another five minutes before looking up.

"Now Luna, you know better than to jump onto a bed someone is laying on," Rebekah admonished.

"She's fine," Harry said with a smile and a sparkle in his eye.

Nicholas wasn't sure if that was Harry speaking or Albus.

"Hmm," Jess hummed, evidently having finished her examination. "I think it would be best for you to occasionally cast some spells. You know, release some magic. I know it has its risks since Harry is young, but I think the risk of not doing so is more dangerous."

Harry nodded in agreement, sitting up before looking to Remus. "Remus, my boy, could you give me my wand? I believe it is in my inner left robe pocket behind my emergency pouch of lemon drops."

Remus hurried over to where Albus' robes were, draped across a chair not far from where Severus was working.

"Hmm, could you perhaps also fetch that emergency pouch? Harry and I would like a drop now. I've just realized how much I—" He cut himself with a pained yelp that was soon followed by a yell, his hand rushing up to his forehead as he fell back onto his pillow.

"Albus, what's wrong?!" Pomfrey asked, hurrying to him as he continued to yell.

Nicholas, not having anything delicate to tend to, hurried to him as well.

Harry's other hand went up over the hand currently pressing against his scar as Pomfrey and Nicholas came to his side, but Jess cut in front of Pomfrey.

"Bloody hell, what is this?!" Jess breathed.

"What, what do you see?" Nicholas asked.

"His scar is emitting black magic. It's very strong and erratic."

Harry's eyes were tightly closed, his breathing ragged.

"Merlin, Harry," Albus managed to grit through his teeth. "You didn't . . . tell me it hurt . . . like this."

He opened his eyes, squinting at the ceiling before he gasped. "Na...gini?"

"Albus, what's happening?" Remus asked, pressing up against Nicholas.

Harry's eyes focused for a split second. "Send aurors to Little Hangleton, now. It's Voldemort," he stated, before his eyes rolled up into his head.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for all of your reviews, ^^.

Coming soon: _O.O_


	24. OO

Disclaimer: Really? We don't own this? Are you sure? Darn, must have been a dream then.

* * *

**Part 24: O.O**

Lord Voldemort, master of death, walked purposefully to Little Hangleton. Apparation was not allowed inside Riddle Manor, and Voldemort relished the anger burning more fiercely by the second as he walked. He only wished some unsuspecting traveler would come upon him in his dark mood.

However, if none of the slime would present themselves properly for torture, he would go to them. Soon he saw it. A tiny cottage with a little fence around it. It looked disturbingly like the Gaunt house, but more tidy.

A bent old man was tending to the garden inside the fence. He was so concentrated on his work, he didn't even see the Dark Lord approaching. Voldemort grinned, surveying his first victim.

The man looked incredibly weak, but Voldemort knew from experience that these old types were made of the sternest stuff. It was an absolute joy to break them, as it usually took hours. He readied his wand.

"Harold! Make sure to bring in the beans!" a female shout from the house. Voldemort grinned even wider. The scum had mated! How absolutely, disgustingly wonderful!

"I'm not deaf, yet, Maude!" the man shouted back to the house. He bent over the garden once again, wincing. He still had not seen the Dark Lord. Voldemort used a spell to open the gate and walked in, wand pointed at the old man's back.

He shot a red jet of light to the man's left, just inside his peripheral vision. The man yelped and jumped, turning as fast as his old bones could to face Voldemort. Voldemort chuckled coldly.

"Is someone in the yard, Harold?" the grating female voice issued from the house.

"Who are you?" the old man asked.

"I am not surprised that you haven't heard my name," Voldemort began, savoring the look of fear and confusion on the man's face. "I am Lord Voldemort, and this is the last day you will live."

"Wha- who-, gerroff my lawn!" the old man sputtered.

Voldemort twitched his wand back and forth. "Tsk tsk, you should behave yourself in front of your betters." He shot a spell at the man, one that would break every one of the man's fingers.

He shouted in pain, and fell, dropping the basket he had been gathering vegetables in.

"Harold!" the woman shouted as she banged the door open and surveyed the scene. She was a dumpy older woman, with baking flour dusting the apron she wore. "Are you all right? Who is this man?"

"I am Lord Voldemort," Voldemort said again, rolling the words around with relish. He shot a spell at her, and she crumpled off the porch, her legs useless now that they were shattered.

Now what? Should he torture the man and force the woman to watch, or vice-versa? He pointed his wand first at the man, then the woman. Both were in extreme pain, but they held defiant looks in their eyes. The man reached out for his wife. That settled it. Voldemort moved his wand over the woman.

"_Crucio_."

He felt the power surge from him, malevolence coursing from his wand and hitting the woman. She screamed in agony as the old man screamed her name. Then, the spell ended.

Voldemort frowned. He held the wand over her again. "_Crucio_."

Nothing.

Not even a puff of smoke or a jet of light. The same foreign power he had felt while making Nagini into a Horcrux surfaced. Suddenly, he himself was in pain. It was nothing compared to _crucio_, but still, it was pain. What in Slytherin's name was going on? The pain subsided, and he held out his wand again, determined to carry out what he came to do.

"Frank! Dark magic up ahead!" Voldemort heard a shout from down the road, closer to the village.

Aurors! Why were they here? Was this pain their doing? He looked back down at the old filth. He did not want to deal with both them and aurors, especially with his magic fluctuating like it was. Best to kill these two now.

"Avada-" Pain, more intense than before, ripped through him. With a pained shout, he did the only thing he could think of.

He apparated away.

O o O o O

Frank Longbottom and the young auror, Kingsley Shaklebolt, stared in shock at the elderly muggles. They had quickly examined the area and determined it clear, casting body bind and numbing spells on the muggles. Though it didn't fix any wounds, it kept the muggles from thrashing, screaming, or being in much pain. They had already sent the message for a healer.

In fact, someone, obviously in wizard dress, was coming toward the house. They both readied their wands, just in case the figure was unfriendly. The tall figure of a wizard man came closer. He held a wand in one hand and a card of some kind in the other.

Recognizing the Unspeakable card, Frank relaxed a bit. The card could not be faked, and he had seen what happened when someone tried, or picked up a card not meant for them. It was not pretty.

Despite knowing the Unspeakables technically worked with the aurors, Frank grimaced. They had final authority, and sometimes could be demanding on what the aurors reported, even within the Ministry. If the auror disagreed, they could find themselves at the wrong end of a memory charm. He really didn't know how often that happened, but it was possible.

Determined to keep his eye on the new arrival, Frank waved and asked him to come over and look at the area. Behind the Unspeakable, Frank saw a medical team responding to his call.

O o O o O

Voldemort sat in an ornate chair in one of the upper rooms of the Riddle Manor. The mansion had wards and traps around it, and he didn't think any intruder stood a chance. Well, perhaps Albus Dumbledore, but the word was that the old coot was ill right now.

Voldemort was undisturbed by petty things as he pondered the mystery of his magic. His left hand automatically strayed to where Nagini often sat. At the reminder of his familiar's death, he clenched his teeth in anger. The venture to Little Hangleton did nothing to alleviate this anger.

It was this trip that caused the Dark Lord to ponder. Why hadn't he been able to sustain a proper _crucio_? He had felt plenty of anger and disgust. There should have been nothing preventing it. Something was clearly wrong with his magic. This same something had caused the death of his beloved familiar and a piece of his soul.

Voldemort closed his eyes and began to occlude, sorting his newest memories in his mind. The intense feelings he had experienced were locked away so he could look at the problem logically.

Was it his new body? Perhaps the ritual used to resurrect him prevented the use of such intense magic. He didn't think that was the case, but it was something to keep in mind.

Was it the wand he had used? The vampire sent to bring back his wand had brought two wands, neither of which was his. He assumed they were the Potter's, since he was able to use them. He had won them in battle, after all. One worked slightly better than the other, and he had performed several high level spells with it before going into the horcrux ritual. It shouldn't be the wand. Again, it was something to keep in mind.

Thinking again over everything that happened, he wondered if it was the boy's blood. He had felt powerful, full of life, more so than he should after using the blood of a child. It didn't make much sense, but Voldemort wanted to make sure he covered all possibilities.

The foreign power he felt had stopped him twice, once when moving part of his soul into Nagini, and once while torturing the muggle. It was definitely magic, but of a sort he had never felt before. It was as if the new magic had a mind of its own. In fact, Voldemort recalled that something had been screaming when he performed the horcrux ritual.

Perhaps it was a bit of the Potter brat's conscience?

Whatever it was, he had to get rid of it. A Dark Lord who couldn't cast a proper _crucio_ would be laughed out of existence. And what if the unknown magic grew stronger? No, it had to be cut out.

A new conundrum. How could he cut it out when he didn't know what it was?

He pondered for some time, coming up with ideas and throwing them out. Finally, an option presented itself. He had more than one horcrux. As loathe as he was to lose another, it may be the only way to stop this growing disease.

At the very least, he could bring one back to his hideout. Further study of the object may reveal how he could use it to overpower the foreign magic. Thinking over the locations, he decided that the ring would be the easiest to get. It was nearby, and he wouldn't have to talk to/torture anyone to get it back.

His mind made up, he apparated to the Gaunt cottage.

Something was wrong. The wards should have welcomed him, but he felt nothing. It was as if they had been dispelled. Immediately, he pulled his wand out. Nothing greeted him.

There were no traps, no wards. Alarmed, Voldemort ran inside.

A dusty and empty room met his eyes. The brick behind which the ring had hid was gone. In its place was a piece of parchment.

With a hiss of rage, Voldemort waved his wand over the parchment. When nothing harmful was revealed, he picked it up.

"My boy, such actions are reprehensible. I have taken care of your mistake and look forward to destroying the others. –APWBD"

With a scream, Voldemort viciously crumpled the parchment and threw it across the room. As it was still falling, he cast fire after it. The parchment burned to a crisp, leaving only ash behind. That old meddler would meet his death for this, Voldemort vowed. Unsatisfied with simply burning the parchment, he cast fire over the whole house and walked outside, watching as it completely burned. The fire spread to the grounds, and Voldemort watched it, seething. When total destruction had been attained, he apparated back to Riddle Manor, leaving only burning remnants of what had once belonged to the last 'pure' descendants of Salazar Slytherin.

O o O o O

Remus watched Harry as he slept. The boy had been unconscious since he had announced that Voldemort was attacking. One of the unspeakables, the tall man, left to deal with it. Remus was surprised that no one questioned the announcement, but then, the boy was somehow channeling Albus Dumbledore. Remus couldn't quite wrap his mind around that. How should he act? Harry had rejected him before, and though he and Albus were on amicable terms, it didn't seem right to speak and act like he would toward the headmaster when he was in the body of a child. Especially a child for whom he had protective urges.

So Remus had stood in the back of the infirmary, watching as the others tried to help Harry. There was really nothing Remus could do, as healing and mind magic were not his forte. Trying to help would only get in the way at this point. Still, it felt like he was letting Harry down by doing nothing.

Now, he sat by Harry's bed. The two Unspeakables had examined Harry and were now working together on something. Nicholas and Snape were back to healing Albus' body, now working behind a silencing ward to ensure that their potion work was uninterrupted. Evidently, Snape felt he had found a solution and he and Nicholas needed all of their concentration to make it a reality. Remus could only hope it would not take too long. With that going on, Madam Pomfrey was caring for some students who had come in earlier with indigestion. Mrs. Lovegood and her daughter had left, since there was nothing they could do either.

Remus was left with Harry, silently willing him to get better. He hoped this whole mess would be over soon, and cursed the foul vampires that caused it. If he ever had a chance to meet them, transformed or not, he would rend them limb from limb, then hang those limbs in warning to more of the dirty bats to stay away from his pack. His mentor, Provo, was patrolling the grounds, just in case.

Harry (or was it Albus?) shifted and murmured something unintelligible. Since the boy wasn't thrashing or shuddering, Remus interpreted the words as part of a dream.

"His scar has dark magic around it," unspeakable – Jess, was that her name? – explained.

"But his mind is being invaded," the other, Anna, answered. Remus tuned into their discussion. Jess was gesturing with her hands, but Remus didn't see any correlation to what was being said. Anna had her arms crossed and looked annoyed.

Okay, so not a discussion, an argument of some sort, Remus decided.

"Well, it's pushing the two that are already in him, so that must be what's keeping him unconscious," Jess said.

Anna shook her head. "Two minds," she said before holding up two fingers. "Then a third one comes in. All in one body."

"But look at him!" Jess exclaimed, not loudly enough to alert anyone in the infirmary, but forcefully enough that the other witch looked at Harry. "You can see the dark angry stuff swirling around his scar." She moved her hands in a swirling motion.

Remus looked again at Harry. What he saw was a young boy who needed help.

"I see two minds inside one body," Anna replied, arms still crossed, "and a third coming in. They aren't trying to push each other out yet, but they are probably getting quite squished."

Suddenly, Harry's back arched, his body stiff. "Harry!" Remus yelped concernedly. Harry fell back on the bed, shuddering. The two women hurried to his side, showing no hostility toward each other as they examined the boy.

"It's doing it again," they said in concert. As Anna pried Harry's left eye open, the lights in the room started flickering. Remus heard the shattering of glass somewhere behind him.

"Harry, wake up!" Remus shouted, his inner wolf responding more than his intellectual self.

The smells of spilled potions suddenly filled the room and Remus spun around. The breaking glass had once been vials on the shelf. Without knowing what was in them, there was no way to predict how they would react. Remus quickly conjured a containment shield over the pooling mess, just as a poof of sickly looking brown smoke raised up from it. The lights continued to flicker, and Madame Pomfrey rushed over to them.

"What's happening?" she asked.

"He's in shock," Jess answered shortly. "The magicks are fighting."

The potion spill seemed to have reached equilibrium, so Remus lowered his wand, watching for surprise reactions. There were none, so he turned back to Harry. Unspeakable Jess was now holding him down, while Unspeakable Anna looked intently into Harry's open eye. She was frowning. Madame Pomfrey had her wand out, but wasn't casting, instead looking as if she would be ready at a moment's notice.

Remus dashed back over, trying to stay out of the way but wanting to be close. He could feel the burning heat of raw magic pouring from Harry, and his skin was tinted red from it. "Can I cast a cooling charm?" he asked, wanting to help.

There was a long pause, then Jess shook her head. "There's too much magic in him already. I don't want to risk it." She paused again. "Oh crap, stand back!_ Now!_"

Remus and Madame Pomfrey jumped back as Jess suddenly shouted and squeezed her eyes shut. A powerful wave of heat washed over him, and he heard windows shattering behind him. The other Unspeakable still leaned over Harry, and Remus noted a thin trickle of blood running from her ear.

"Dear Merlin," Pomfrey uttered forcefully.

O o O o O

The horcrux within Harry had been waiting, biding its time. Surely there would be a moment when the Potter, no, Dumbledore, brat was weak enough to take over. With the immense channels of power flowing through the boy, it would be an easy return for Voldemort. If he could ever take over, that is.

The horcrux had never seen Harry without magical defenses preventing just that.

Well, until now.

The boy's magic was currently focused on simply existing with the influx of new magic. The way was clear, and the visions the horcrux was receiving from the True Form were indicating that this couldn't have happened at a better time. The horcrux opened the pathway a bit more, to use the emotions flowing from the True Form.

Anger. Anger raw and powerful, came to the horcrux's disposal. The True Form had discovered a horcrux missing. All the more reason to complete the possession of the child. It reached out, into Harry's mind.

It immediately met resistance, more than it had anticipated. It could sense the determination from the boy and the protectiveness from the old man as they fought against it, which had been expected. What had not been were the other presences that suddenly made themselves known. . . .

"**Be Gone, Abomination!**"

With the voice, an echoing chorus of magic and power, the horcrux's opponents fought even harder, so much so that magic was being thrown outside the body. The horcrux persevered, wrapping its powerful tendrils around the delicate instrument that was the human mind.

Suddenly, another presence was there. The presence filled the areas of the boy's mind that the horcrux had not yet taken, and encroached on the ones it had. This presence was quiet, but strong and unrelenting, and though the horcrux could not sense its magic per se, its objective was clear. The boy's mind would only be taken after going through this entity.

But the horcrux was not going to give up. It was not going to pull back after it had gotten so close. It fought, tearing into the brat's mind itself to gain a better hold. The new presence immediately began fortifying the boy's defenses, acting where the brat's magic and voice could not. The horcrux, despite its hard work, found itself being pushed back.

Until it was not only being pushed, it was being pulled. Someone completely outside the boy was fighting as well, ripping the horcrux out bit by bit. The horcrux could feel this individual's magic, much like the boy's, pulsing into and around it, breaking its hold and yanking it back, working with the other magicks in the small pitiful body that had held it for the past five years.

With everything suddenly moving against it, the horcrux did the only thing it felt it might still be able to do. Destroy. Taking every ounce of hatred it had and the waves still pouring in from the True Form, the horcrux focused all its strength against one target. Like a shotgun, its energy went forward, only to be met with an impenetrable wall that had suddenly taken form between it and the boy's mind.

With a screech of anger, the horcrux was hurled out.

The last thing it heard was a female voice yelling, rather vindictively, "Gotcha!"

O o O o O

Remus watched in horror as the two witches stood over Harry. They had been utterly silent after the first wave of magic. Now, Remus was worried about Harry burning himself up. Surely this couldn't last much longer!

Suddenly, Harry's curse scar flashed, and black smoke began to pour out. Jess, her eyes still shut, reached out and grabbed the smoke, pulling it away from the boy. Anna moved to hold Harry down as he started shaking violently.

"Gotcha!" Jess yelled as the smoke detached from Harry and twisted viciously in her hand. Jess stepped back and quickly grabbed it with both hands and squeezed. An odd green hue shimmered over her hands before seemingly strangling the hideous smoke. It suddenly collapsed, releasing a sound like a thunderclap before vanishing. Harry stopped shaking. Anna stood and wiped her brow.

"What was that?" Pomfrey asked.

Jess and Anna met each other's eyes, both of them reaching an epiphany.

"We were both right, weren't we?" Jess said.

"Looks like it," Anna answered, putting her hand up to touch the blood that had leaked from her ear. She grimaced and wiped her hand on her robe. "I'm glad we were here."

Jess nodded. "We are going to have to discuss what happened with the others." Jess gave a brief amused smile. "Colin is going to be disappointed. His services are no longer needed here."

"Um . . . so what was that?" Remus asked again for Pomfrey, chosing not to ask who Colin was.

"That," Jess began, breathing heavily, "was a concentration of very dark magic."

"Is Harry and Albus all right?" Remus asked.

Jess nodded. "For now."

"He should wake up soon," Anna said.

"Can I run diagnostics on him?" Pomfrey asked.

Jess nodded. "That should be fine. Just don't overload him with magic."

Remus ran to Harry's side. His body was burned, like a bad sunburn, but not the charred mess that Remus had been half expecting. Pomfrey began waving her wand, and though she looked grave, she did not look as if all hope was lost. The two Unspeakables sat heavily on the bed next to them.

Madame Pomfrey soon finished up her diagnostics, saying that once this mess between Harry and Albus was sorted out, they could give the child potions. Until then, he seemed to be stable, and in fact was in more of a sleep state than unconscious.

Remus breathed a sigh of relief. Now that Harry's safety had been ascertained, the scholar in Remus had other questions. "What did you do to the dark magic?" he asked, looking toward the Unspeakables.

"I pulled it out of him," Jess said, as if it were the simplest and most obvious fact in the world. She looked and sounded exhausted, with shadows forming under her eyes. The other one wasn't in much better shape, and looked as though she wasn't sure if she should be physically supporting Jess or ignoring her weakness.

Madame Pomfrey looked up from her diagnosis and spotted the two witches. With authority born from many years of ordering students to take medicine, sleep, and other various infirmary related treatments, she waved her wand over them and pronounced them magically and physically exhausted.

Anna waved her off. "We'll be fine. Just let us sit down for a minute."

"You two will not only sit down, you will lie down. You need sleep," Madame Pomfrey countered.

Anna held her hand over her mouth, and Remus thought she was going to be sick. Then, suddenly, she giggled, which morphed into full blown laughter as she fell backwards on the bed. Jess watched her with no emotion, at least, not one Remus could ascertain. He worried for her sanity.

With a sigh, the Unspeakable suddenly stopped laughing, but stayed lying across the foot of the bed, her short legs not reaching the floor. Jess turned a bit and leaned against the headboard, closing her eyes. "Thanks," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

O o O o O

Frank Longbottom walked into his home after work, exhausted. The anonymous tip that Voldemort was active in Little Hangleton had surprised everyone, and more than a few were skeptical. He and Kingsley had found evidence of Dark magic, but the sign that Voldemort or his followers always left hadn't been present.

The description the muggles gave (they were left alive, which was unheard of in Dark Lord incidences) could have been Voldemort, but it was hard to say. Sure, the wizard had claimed to be Voldemort, but was it actually the Dark Lord or someone wanting to spread fear?

Whatever the case, the muggles had to be dealt with. They were fully healed and memory wiped. All that might remain were tremors from the _crucio_ curse. These could easily be explained by their advanced age. Frank shut the door behind him and ran a hand through his hair.

Alice met him in the entryway. She could always tell when he'd had a rough day. However, today seemed different.

"What is it, Honey?" Frank asked, sensing her worried mood. Had something happened to Neville?

Alice wordlessly handed him a letter.

Frank read over it quickly. "The Order?" he questioned.

"Yes, apparently Voldemort is back," Alice answered quietly. "Did you hear anything at work?"

Frank took a large breath and began to tell her about his day.

O o O o O

Albus and Harry were quiet. Of course, being in one mind, it wasn't exactly quiet, but after what they had just endured, they simply wanted to be still. They were both exhausted, but found the strength to take in and determine what had just happened and what they had learned. They couldn't really sleep here, after all.

Voldemort knew Albus had taken the ring, and he was furious, for some reason wanting, no . . . _desperately_ **needing** to get his hands on it. Albus shook himself. It was very clear to him and Harry what Voldemort wanted now. The Diary.

But that information was pushed aside by what had happened soon after.

The horcrux in Harry had tried to take over. Only by their combined efforts and the assistance they had gotten from the voice and two others, who they could only guess were Anna and Jess, were they able to defeat it.

It was now gone.

During the struggle, it had been torn and shredded, its essence spilling out and essentially spraying all over. The extra protection they had gotten from Anna, her touch quite identifiable, seemed to repel every bit of the horcrux's consciousness, and the energy that belonged to the voice had wrapped around them all, taking in the energy being severed from the horcrux while ruthlessly pushing the dark presence out. Jess had been pulling, her magic leaking through and around the horcrux, hacking away at its grip until it became desperate and attacked with no restraint.

That was when Dumbledore responded. He had been biding his time, gathering his energy to be released when it was most needed. Allowing his love and devotion to Harry fill him up, he thrust everything he had into imagining an invulnerable barrier in front of them as the horcrux unleashed its attack. Feeling the brunt of the attack shake the very core of his being, he forced himself to stand fast. He would not fail. It was not an option. And he hadn't failed.

"Papa?"

Albus paused in his mental recount of recent events and turned his attention to Harry.

"Yes?"

"I just felt something."

That got his attention. Stretching out his senses to take account of their magicks, including the voice's, Albus quickly found the something.

"I believe they've found a way for me to go back," Albus stated, recognizing the small void at the edge of Harry's mind wrapped and warped by strands of magic.

_Go._

Albus and Harry both gave a start as the voice whispered the simple order.

"I guess you're right," Harry said.

Albus agreed, turning to the void and moving toward it, until he met the edge of it, collected himself, and stepped through. . . .

In a swirling, disorientating fashion, Albus felt himself pulled along, the chaotic magic whirling around him all the while until he came to an abrupt stop and slammed back into his own body.

It was a rather confusing sensation, especially when muffled voices and unrelenting prodding came to his attention.

"Albus? Albus? Can you hear me?"

What he wanted to say to that was 'Yes,' but well. . . .

"Urgh."

What on earth was that? 'Urgh'? Was that all he could say?

He cracked his eyes open, though it was so bright to him all he could see was light and very blurred forms.

"Albus?"

He felt someone take his hand. He could feel the softness of their skin and the warmth of their palm. Gratefulness swallowed him up. He never knew he would appreciate such a sensation so much as the gravity of everything he and Harry had managed to survive in the past few days suddenly hit him.

He closed his eyes again. Wouldn't do to allow tears to escape. He was Albus Dumbledore, after all. He didn't like to show such emotion to others if he could help it. Forcing himself to calm and just breathe, he squeezed the person's hand, as the thing he had put at the back of his mind suddenly came to the forefront.

The Diary.

Snapping his eyes open, he searched wildly for the people he knew who would be able to help-the Unspeakables. His eyes fell to Jess, who was at the foot of his bed.

"Jess, we must get the diary. He knows I know what he's done, and he's desperate to retrieve the diary to use for something. He's after it now. We must get it before he does."

Jess didn't see fit to question him, but merely looked over at Anna, who immediately dashed out of the infirmary. "It'll be taken care of, Albus. Just rest," she said.

O o O o O

Anna could just kick herself. Why had she put this off for so long? Now it had come back to haunt her. She had been avoiding the matter of the diary (and the other horcruxes known to be in her possession) for some time now, not wanting to broach the subject with Narcissa. She'd been afraid of what it might do to their family and unsure of how to even bring it up, but now she had no choice.

"Malfoy Manor," she stated, throwing in the floo.

She stepped out, passing through wards since she was family. She walked through the receiving room to the living area and saw Narcissa sitting on the couch, reading a book. Anna took notice of the spotlessness of what was always Narcissa's home, though there were a few toys of Draco's about. He had clearly just been playing.

"Anna!" Narcissa exclaimed, surprised. She set down her book and stood. "What are you doing here? It's not like you to arrive unannounced through the floo. Is something the matter?"

Anna took a deep breath, quickly deciding on a route to take.

"Narcissa, something has happened. I've learned something," she stated.

Narcissa frowned, taking in Anna's hurried appearance. "And this caused you to rush here?"

Anna nodded, wondering how to continue. Oh, why hadn't she done this last week, when she could have eased into the issue and had time to decide what to say and do?

She swallowed. "Narcissa, our family is in danger."

Narcissa stared at her. "And what would make you think that?" she asked, confused.

Anna sighed. "Narcissa, you know I work at the Ministry. Through them I found out that Lucius came into possession of some very dangerous items. In order to protect the family, I was hoping to help you destroy them."

Narcissa's eyes darted this way and that for a few seconds, as if trying to figure out what Anna might be referring to, before her eyes widened. But it was not in horror, but calm, almost pleased, realization.

"I believe I know what you're talking about, but I have everything under control. In fact . . . here." She went over to one of the far bookcases and tapped on a book to cause the shelf to shift, revealing a much more valuable collection of books. She pulled out a black, leather bound book.

Anna blinked. It wouldn't be this easy, would it? But . . . something was not right.

"This, Anna, is what will ensure our family's survival and improve our status. Draco will not suffer for his father's mistakes."

Anna didn't move.

"Oh, I'm so glad you've come today. I've wanted to talk to you about this and have your help. There are not many I can trust with the wellbeing of my family."

Anna tried to keep her stance composed and relaxed, but she could not fight the growing alarm swelling within her as she began to detect dark tendrils at the edge of Narcissa's mind, just waiting.

"Narcissa, we need to destroy these things," she stated.

"What? I told you, Anna, I have it handled. There is nothing to fear," she said as she held up the book.

"No, Narcissa, you don't understand. That is a horcrux, a piece of a soul, and it isn't harmless. It can interact with the world around it, even people. Narcissa, you have a piece of the Dark Lord!"

"I know," she said, unconcerned. "And it is because of that that he will never dream of harming us, especially after everything I've done for him. It is what makes it so perfect."

Anna frowned. "What do you mean?"

"He thinks he's the one in control, but he isn't. I am. Do you honestly think he could have gotten vampires on his side? No. Through old contacts of Lucius, I was able to orchestrate it all. I am the Master."

Anna knew Narcissa was rambling now. She could feel the horcrux's elation and pride taking over her normal restraint. Narcissa went over to a side table and placed the diary down upon it before walking to Anna.

"Please, Anna, won't you help me in this? The Malfoy name can regain what it has lost. Draco need not live in the shadow of his father's failures."

Anna really couldn't believe this was happening. This was all so . . . wrong.

"Narcissa, these won't help you," she explained hurriedly. If Narcissa would only realize what she was doing, Anna knew she'd get rid of them herself. "They'll tear down the family, not raise it up! We have to destroy them!"

Narcissa sighed. "I'm sorry you think that way. I'd hoped you had inherited more of the Malfoy nerve than is apparent."

Anna had little warning as Narcissa pulled out her wand and threw a curse. As Anna jumped to the side, the curse gouged a gash into the floor where she had just been standing.

Wishing she had requested backup in this before coming, Anna pulled out her wand and waved it about, deflecting another two curses from Narcissa that ricocheted off to hit a lounge chair.

"Mommy?"

Anna spun around and saw Draco looking in from the dining room behind her, confused.

Narcissa smirked, her eyes glancing at Draco before focusing on Anna. Narcissa was not in control.

"Avada Kedavra!" she snarled, her eyes no longer her own, but like a serpent's.

The green curse bolted toward Draco, Anna several paces away.

Anna did the only thing she could besides stepping out to take the curse for Draco. Thrusting her wand at a couch and swinging it out, she brought the heavy brown sofa into the path of the curse.

Draco screamed, too afraid to do anything else as the couch exploded, stuffing raining everywhere. Anna didn't wait to see what Narcissa would do next as she called the side table with the diary to her. She wasn't sure if the diary had a counter-accio on it, so used the table it was on to bring it closer to her.

Narcissa snarled, not holding anything back despite Draco being present, forcing Anna to distance herself from Draco as the side table scraped across the floor toward her.

Anna twisted about, narrowly missing a blue hex as her foot came down on a magical toy of Draco's.

"Gah!" she shouted, feeling it crush beneath her heel and its magic explode up and around her ankle. But there was no time to make careful, articulate steps. She had to get out of there! Grabbing the diary with one hand, blocking yet another curse with her wand in the other, she bolted back to Draco. There was no way in hell she would leave him here!

"Come here, Draco!" she cried, only to trip over a chunk of the couch.

A curse zipped by her shoulder as she stumbled forward, her ears buzzing from the intense magic in the air. Ignoring her throbbing ankle, she continued forward, somehow managing to stay on her feet rather than face planting herself into the debris that was collecting around them. Curse after curse whizzed past her to obliterate parts of furniture, walls, and floor. Plaster filled the air, dark magic pummeling everything in its path.

Narcissa laughed, quite amused by Anna's meager attempts to dart around her barrage of spells. However, she was quickly losing patience as Anna's less than graceful dodges continued to thwart her.

Anna made it to Draco, who miraculously was still unharmed. Not bothering to be really careful, as there was no time and she was scared for their lives, she snatched him up with one arm. Draco, too frightened to take offense at the tightness around his ribs, immediately clung to her arm. She turned, leaping over the fallen coffee table and hoisting Draco up in the nick of time to save his legs from bashing against the side of it.

Entering the receiving room, she didn't pause as she somehow managed to flick her wand, with Draco hanging over her arm, at the floo container, bringing it down and into the fireplace. Bolting in, hearing Narcissa's roar behind them, she cried out their destination.

"Throck's bar and grill!"

O o O

Seth had just sat down to continue his book. Muggles had such a skewed view of magic, and he loved reading their portrayals of wizards. Sometimes, they had some interesting ideas, though, and he kept note of effects he would try to reproduce later in a notepad on the arm of the couch.

His feet were propped up on the coffee table in front of him. It was looking to be a relaxing night, just the thing he needed after the last few harrowing days.

Slagathor, his head house elf, appeared soundlessly and bowed. "I apologize for disturbing Master, but there is someone at the door. Should Slagathor let her in?"

What? "Who is it?" Seth demanded. No one ever came over, and tonight was supposed to be relaxing.

"One of your coworkers," Slagathor replied.

Seth let out a heavy sigh and deliberately marked his place in his book. "I'll talk to her." Whatever Anna or Jess wanted had better be quick and/or important.

He picked up the portkey to the front door, an empty bottle. He didn't feel like walking. Opening the door, still gripping the bottle/portkey and his book, he realized his visitor must be outside his office. Not Jess, then.

He weaved around his desk and yanked open the office door, intending to catch Anna off guard. "You forget something?" he questioned teasingly, but then trailed off as he took in the sight outside his office.

Anna, looking disheveled and tired, had a small pack with a cat peeking out of it thrown over her shoulder and was holding the hand of a frightened looking little boy.

"Er..." Seth said.

"We're staying here tonight," Anna announced, her voice nearly cracking.

"What happened?" Seth asked, opening the door.

Anna looked at the blonde boy with her and answered, "I'll tell you later. Right now, we both need some sleep, and I can't think of any place safer than here."

This, Seth had not anticipated at all.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for all of your reviews, ^^.

Coming soon: _Recovery_


	25. Recovery

Disclaimer: Really? We don't own this? Are you sure? Darn, must have been a dream then.

A/N: Well, it's been a while since we last posted, and for that we apologize, but life in general hasn't given us much rest. However, we have found the time to write a bit more, yay! And here it is. Hope you all enjoy it :).

* * *

**Part 25: Recovery**

Albus opened his eyes, feeling rested for the first time in what seemed like years. He stared at the infirmary ceiling for awhile, sorting events in his mind and making sure there wasn't anything he was supposed to do. He couldn't think of anything, however, except to see how Harry was doing. He turned his head to one side, noting that his body didn't ache nearly as much as he expected.

Harry was sitting in a chair reading the newspaper, his short legs swinging back and forth. "Morning, Papa," he said with a smile. "Do you feel better?"

"Much," Albus answered. He could even feel the old twinkle coming back. He pulled himself into a sitting position against the headboard of the hospital bed. Though tired from the exertion, the pain he had anticipated was not present. He looked around, but all he could sense was Harry's magic.

"I put up a privacy ward," Harry explained. Albus could tell without even looking that he was proud of himself.

"Really?" Albus questioned in surprise. "How did you manage that?"

"Well," Harry began thoughtfully, "I just asked the voice."

"The voice that helped me out of my body?" Albus clarified. That had been the strangest part of this whole venture. Though he and Harry had discussed it, they still didn't know who or what the voice belonged to. At first, they had thought that perhaps it was Harry's magic gaining consciousness. However, the feminine sound of the voice spoke against that, at least, they thought it did. After all, why would Harry's magic be feminine? If it was gaining some form of consciousness, shouldn't it be male? It was still possible, but less likely.

"The voice sounded very familiar," Albus admitted. It wasn't quite like any voice they were used to hearing, but it reminded them of someone they knew.

Harry nodded. "I thought so too, and I was thinking back to when our bond was formed. Jess was the one to form it, intentionally or not. I think some of her magic must have entered as well, and the voice we hear is hers."

Albus thought it over for a moment. Now that Harry had given him a possibility, it seemed highly plausible. Jess' magic was chaotic; who was he to say it couldn't develop a sort of sentience? All magic, given enough time, had the ability to gain a form of consciousness. It was why Hogwarts, in a way, was alive. "So you can talk to it at any time now?" he questioned.

"No, at least, it's not responding anymore," Harry answered. "It said that it was staying around to make sure we were ok. When I asked about privacy wards, it put one up, then announced that it was satisfied and went back to wherever it was before all this."

"Perhaps it will only manifest when you are in dire need," Albus suggested. Harry nodded as if he had been thinking the same thing. Putting it out of his mind for now, Albus thought about the other things that had happened. "What about the diary? Were they able to secure it?"

Harry wrinkled his brow in consternation. "I don't know. When I woke up, the Unspeakables were gone. Nicholas said that Jess stayed until she was certain we were stable."

Albus told Harry about waking and telling them about the diary. He was sure that at least Anna had left then, but other than that, he didn't have any information. There was a brief interlude of silence as Albus pondered what might have happened.

"Papa," Harry hesitantly said, "I can't feel Voldemort anymore."

Albus' first reaction was elation. Wonderful news this was! Now Voldemort wouldn't be able to use Harry's scar to spy on them, and Harry wouldn't be hurt by it. Of course, the opposite was true; they would no longer be able to see what Tom was up to. Overall, though, he'd rather Harry be safe, even if it left them at more of a disadvantage than before. "That's good news," he replied.

"The horcrux is gone," Harry added. "I'm not sure exactly how it happened, or why the bloody thing attacked me when it had never done that before, but it's definitely out of me. The only thing that seems to still be there is parseltongue. It's not as easy, though, I really have to be thinking about it to speak it."

Albus remembered fighting against the horcrux, but he knew other things had been happening as well. Those specific events were somewhat fuzzy, but the result was not. "I am delighted that horrid thing is finally gone," he said. Harry nodded in agreement. He had been preparing for the horcrux removal, but both of them had been iffy on entrusting it to fiendfyre like the Unspeakables wished to do. Now, apparently, that was no longer necessary. "What else happened?" Albus asked.

"Well, I've been examining our bond while you've been sleeping, and it's changed somewhat. I actually think we can turn it on low, control the volume of it now, so to speak," Harry answered. "Which is kind of nice, since we've been crammed into one body for awhile." Albus could feel the longing in him.

After getting over his shock that such a thing was possible, Albus could see the benefits. Even though they had leaned on the bond as a comfort, something unchanging in this world, there were definitely times they wished it could be cut, or at the very least muffled. Such as now, when silence was so appealing.

Feeling Albus' consent, Harry slowly lowered the strength of the bond, and, after Albus' first ingrained reaction of fear, he rather enjoyed having his emotions all to himself. It was also good to know that he could quiet or strengthen the connection of the bond from his end whenever he wished.

"There wasn't any mention of Voldemort being back in the Prophet," Harry said with a frown. "But I guess the Ministry just doesn't know yet."

"Were there any mention of an attack?" Albus asked.

Harry flipped through the paper. "Yeah, but it's on page four and didn't mention Voldemort at all. Apparently some muggles were tortured but not killed. The only reasons I think it might have been him is that it was in Little Hangleton, and we felt him through the scar."

Albus was a bit confused by this, but decided to move on. He would be able to talk to people who knew what was really going on soon. He idly wondered what the Prophet did have on the front page.

"We were in the Prophet, too," Harry added after a moment of companionable silence.

"Really?" Albus said, rather curious. "What did the Prophet have to say?"

"Just that both of us are well, despite the attacks, and that you owe your health to Severus and Nicholas," Harry answered. "There's not much else about what happened, which is good. It also doesn't say how you were cured, just that you were."

"Well, I shall have to speak with Nicholas and Severus later," Albus said, his eyes twinkling.

Harry smiled knowingly, his eyes gaining a twinkle of their own. "I already did."

"What did they have to say?" Albus asked.

"Severus had the breakthrough," Harry announced. "He figured out that he could use phoenix ash in the antidote."

Albus smiled. "That's my boy."

"They wouldn't tell me exactly what was in it." Harry looked a little put out by that. "However, after they cured your body, they put the rune network that I made for you back on the bed. That was what caused the bridge for you to return to your own body."

"I'm glad you took such an interest in Runes," Albus said warmly.

Harry shrugged sheepishly. "Well, not being able to use a wand . . . and I like crayons."

Albus chuckled. "Well done, my boy."

O o O o O

Severus Snape woke up on one of the beds in the infirmary. He and Nicholas had both been exhausted by the time Albus was cured, even though most of the time they worked in shifts. Now, he stretched and sat up, ready in case he was needed again. His pride swelled as he remembered that it had been his idea to use phoenix ash in the antidote. Master Flamel had praised him, saying that he had surpassed most of even Nicholas' peers in the field of potions.

That praise meant more than any other recognition.

Severus noticed movement just beyond the curtains and stood silently, palming his wand. Though he didn't expect an attack in the infirmary, it was best to be prepared. He whipped aside the curtains, wand up.

The werewolf stood on the other side, obviously nervous. However, he didn't startle, probably due to his enhanced beast senses. "Hello, Severus," he greeted.

"Lupin," Snape bit off. However, instead of starting the insults, he waited. Working for Master Flamel had ground the virtue of patience into him. If Lupin began hurling slights, he would of course retaliate.

"I wanted to thank you for what you did for Albus and Harry," Lupin began.

Snape did not allow any surprise to cross his face, but internally, he was taken aback. One of his eternal foes thanking him? It was unheard of!

"I also wished to apologize for the way we treated you in school. Though we were children, and animosity was on both sides, I should have known better."

Severus was impressed. Lupin had in one statement spread blame on everyone involved and taken blame himself. He gave a valid excuse, then shot it down as a valid excuse. Severus was now compelled to answer in like manner. "I was also childish then. I accept your apology and offer my own." Strangely, he felt lighter after making such a declaration. After all, everyone involved, except for the two of them, were dead.

There was no reason to hold a grudge against the dead. Studying under Master Flamel was giving him recognition that the self-proclaimed 'Marauders' would never have.

Remus breathed out in relief. There was a moment of awkward silence, then Remus spoke. "I am glad that we can put this behind us." He waited for Severus to speak, but when he only received a curt nod in return, he turned around and walked back to where Albus was resting.

Severus went back to the temporary potion room and began cleaning up.

O o O o O

Narcissa gnashed her teeth in frustration. She had tried to step through to Anna's house, but the wards stopped her. Now she'd have to go the long way. However, the Dark Lord was on his way to pick up the book, the one Anna had made off with! And her son, her precious son, was lost, taken by a madwoman. Narcissa felt tears coursing down her face at the thought. If she only had the book, this meeting would be quick, letting her chase after her son, but now, it promised to be long and painful. She was tempted to rush after Draco, despite the Dark Lord, but something restrained her.

She vowed to get her precious baby back.

After what seemed an excruciatingly long time, the floo flared. The Dark Lord entered.

"Ah, Narcissa," his charismatic voice issued, "what a pleasure."

"The pleasure is mine," Narcissa answered with a nervous curtsy. The Dark Lord picked up her hand and gave it a kiss, a very traditional greeting. Part of her wanted to believe that he did this for more than just tradition and the fact that she had given him a body. Such thoughts could wait, however. Right now, she had to get out of this mess, and the Dark Lord would not be pleased.

"Now," he began, letting go of her hand and looking around in curiosity, "where is it?"

Narcissa knew exactly what he was referring to, and it would do her no good to pretend she didn't. "My Lord," she bowed her head in a show of reverence, "I am afraid it is no longer here." Before he could respond with rage, she added, "It was taken by my cousin, Anna Malfoy."

Even without looking at him, she felt the waves of hatred and anger flowing from him. His voice was cold, a sure sign that he was furious. "And why, pray tell, was someone so small in levels of power that I have never heard of her able to get this item?"

Narcissa cringed, still unwilling to lift her face. "It was on a table in preparation for your arrival," she lied smoothly. "My cousin came in unexpected and for some reason thought it would bring about the destruction of our family."

"Really," the Dark Lord questioned, his even voice barely controlling his rage. "Now why would she think that? Perhaps you were showing off a power you don't fully understand?"

Narcissa raised her head, confident that her mental shields would hide what had happened. "Not at all, my Lord. She simply caught me off guard. Of course I plan on retrieving it from her, but with you coming in at any moment, I did not wish to leave." She hoped he would take the hint and let her chase her cousin.

His handsome face turned into an ugly snarl as he whipped out his wand and cast a curse. Narcissa felt as if a whip had come down on her back and fell with a startled scream. Another whip, and another. She felt blood seeping through her robes. When finally the whipping ceased, the Dark Lord walked up and leaned over her prone body.

Narcissa was terrified.

"If it were not for your loyal service thus far," he spat, "I would kill you now. However, with this artifact stolen, you might be integral in retrieving it. Therefore, you will be able to work yourself back into my graces by reclaiming it."

Narcissa let the relief she was feeling bleed into her voice. "Of course, my Lord. Thank you for this opportunity." She struggled to move into a more dignified position, bowing before him.

After a moment of silence, the Dark Lord spoke. "You will also bring me Hufflepuff's cup. I know you have possession of the Gringotts vault in which it is kept. I will return tomorrow. See that you do not disappoint me again." With a whoosh of flame, he was gone. Narcissa quickly cast healing spells on her back and scourgified her robes. Anna would pay.

O o O o O

The Unspeakables sat in their conference room, ready to debrief on the latest occurrences. Colin rocked back in his chair, fiddling with a small gadget that displayed previously stored data. He scrolled to the most recently gathered data on the Dumbledores. Jess and Anna had just told them about Albus' recovery, and he looked over the notes he had taken to see if he had any questions. The whole thing was just bizarre. The fact that Albus had left his body and entered that of a child's was mind boggling.

"Do you know how Albus knew about the attack in Little Hangleton?" Curt asked.

"Anna and I assumed he learned it from Harry's horcrux before it was destroyed," Jess answered. "But Anna also said something about a voice that she heard inside Harry's consciousness. It was helping them fight the horcrux. Depending on what it actually is, the voice may have told Albus about the attack."

"So Magic is speaking with Harry, perhaps?" Seth asked.

Anna shrugged. "All I know is that it sounded an awful lot like Jess. The next time they come up for tests and training, we can ask about it."

Colin noted the new information on his notepad and rescanned it. Ah, here was something that hadn't yet been addressed. "What's going to be done about the vampires?"

Jess answered. "The Hunters are looking into it, but vampires are very hard to track down, since they can turn into a mist and don't have a blood smell that animals can track. They're working on finding a pattern to the attacks, but it's going to take a long time."

"The Hunters?" Rita questioned from his left.

"They're a group of Unspeakables responsible for any hunting or assassinations that the ministry needs done," Colin answered. "Don used to be one. There aren't that many of them, but they specialize in tracking down criminals."

Rita looked to Don. "Really? An assassin?" Colin could see the journalist's hunger for truth in her eyes.

Don glowered at Colin.

"What? It's open knowledge for us," Colin protested.

"What's that like? Have you ever personally assassinated anyone?" Rita continued.

"I can't answer that," Don said. "And you're not allowed to write anything about it for the newspaper, either."

Rita sighed dramatically. "All of the good stuff is off limits."

"Yes, well, we have other news," Jess said calmly. Colin had never seen her lose her center, not even over the bickering of the group. "Anna found another horcrux."

Colin whipped around to look at Anna. She did look a bit harried and tired. "Which one did you find?" he questioned.

"The diary," Anna answered as she gestured to the small book in front of her.

"How did you get it?" Seth asked.

"Narcissa Malfoy had it, and I went over to talk to her. She's under the influence of the necklace horcrux, which I wasn't able to get. Anyway, she pulled out her wand and tried to AK me. It almost hit Draco, her son. I couldn't leave him there, so I grabbed him and the diary and high-tailed it out of there," Anna answered tiredly.

"Are you all right?" David asked. "Where's Draco?"

"I'm fine," Anna answered. "Draco's over at Seth's taking a nap. His house elf is keeping an eye on him."

Since the conference room was under a time spell, to Draco it would seem as if a few minutes went by while a few hours passed for the Unspeakables. Seth's house was probably the safest place, since it was here in the office. "Was the necklace possessing her?" Colin asked.

"Yes, apparently they can do that," Jess answered. "We also think she has Hufflepuff's cup."

"So what are we going to do about it?" Colin asked. He was pretty sure she'd let him destroy it, but wanted to make sure. It was rare that he was allowed to manipulate fiendfyre in the building.

"Well, until we get the other horcruxes, the only thing we can do is destroy this one," Jess answered matter-of-factly. "Colin, you can do the honors after the meeting."

"Sweet!" Colin exclaimed with a laugh.

O o O o O

Rita watched through the two way mirror of the small testing room. Colin had set the diary horcrux on the ground and was currently looking up and scratching his chin, as if trying to remember something. She couldn't hear anything through the speakers yet, but had been told that this was worth seeing and hearing.

The rest of the Unspeakables were with her, but they had given her a front row seat. Suddenly, a look of determination and gratitude came over Colin's face, and he raised his wand and his off hand. Rita had seen similar stances in orchestral conductors.

With a sudden downward slash, music began. First a throbbing bass, then with a gesture from his off hand, a sudden, ear-splitting bright brass. As the music continued, she saw flames dancing from Colin's wand. They seemed to obey the sound of the music, first darting one way, then the other. With a quiet marimba sound and dizzying strings, the fire began to swirl and grow.

And grow.

And grow.

Soon, it was hard to see through the flames that were swirling around the room. Then, after a sudden silence, the fire seemed to grow features, an almost reptilian face leading a long arc of fire. Feindfyre. The fire continued to swirl, rising to the top of the room and gathering, facing the diary.

With five slashes of Colin's wand, the fiendfyre attacked the diary again and again.

Suddenly, a black smoke rose from the book, and the music stopped. The fire turned to Colin. Rita feared for his life. She gasped as the fire seemed to bow, and Colin bowed back, then held out his wand.

With a loud WOOSH, his wand sucked up the fiendfyre. Colin crossed himself and used his wand to sweep the pile of ash from the diary into a conjured dustpan. The other Unspeakables clapped. She couldn't even move.

Rita had never seen something so amazing.

O o O o O

Harry happily followed Hagrid outside onto the grounds. It felt so good to be outside in the open air, away from the constricting infirmary.

"'Arry, what do yeh think about helpin' me feed my new Shrooms?" Hagrid asked, Harry having to jog beside him to keep up.

"Shrooms?"Harry asked.

"They're like little mushrooms that can move."

"Like Devil's Snare?"

"Well, sorta, but Shrooms are much nicer."

"That's good," Harry said.

Harry knew Remus and Provo were following them, but he didn't mind. He knew Remus wanted to be productive, and making sure Harry was safe was fulfilling that desire. Harry only wished they had not had that falling out, of sorts. He knew Remus felt bad about not having believed him, and Harry felt bad about what that had led to, but there was nothing else Harry could have really done in that situation. Ordering Remus out of the room had been the best option, as he had been having serious trouble controlling his emotions and his magic, and having Remus telling him what he knew to be true was wrong had not helped matters. Harry sighed. He didn't like the fact that the last Marauder was now avoiding him.

"Alright, 'ere Harry?" Hagrid asked, turning toward him.

Harry nodded, turning his eyes to the case that Hagrid was now holding.

"Aww, they're adorable," Harry said, unable to stop himself.

They were really really cute. They reminded Harry of the little mushrooms on the Super Mario game he had seen Dudley play once. They were the size of pennies, hoping all around in the case, leaping on each other to get a good look at Harry.

Harry came closer, reaching out his own hand. They happily leapt onto his hand before dancing around and bouncing up his arm, onto his shoulder and onto the top of his head. Harry giggled, the little Shrooms making short squeaks along the way.

O o O

Remus smiled as Harry's giggles made it to his ears.

"You're being an idiot, you know," Provo said, stepping up beside him. Remus sighed.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Oh, I don't know, go up to him and ask if he could show you the Shrooms," Provo answered sarcastically.

"Easy for you to say," Remus grumbled.

"Remus, he's a kid. He'd probably rather play with you than hate you. Besides, kids don't hold grudges," Provo stated blandly.

Remus sighed, but he couldn't argue with his mentor. Harry was just a kid. Well, maybe not 'just', but he was a child. Now, if only he could find a way to talk with Harry.

O o O o O

"Our heir has been kidnapped?" Abraxus Malfoy asked incredulously. One perfectly sculpted eyebrow rose as he spoke to Narcissa. He leaned forward in his carved mahogany chair, his frame outlined by the dark wood throughout his office. He was a daunting figure.

"Yes, My Lord," Narcissa answered with a bowed head. She wrung a handkerchief in her hands, the only outward sign of her grief and anxiety. After trying to find Lucius' cousin herself, she went to the current head of the Malfoy family, Lucius' father. Surely he would be able to convince Anna to give back her son.

"By one of our own," Abraxus continued. He placed his elbows on the desk in front of him and intertwined his fingers. "I assume you have evidence to back this up, for although the woman's pursuits do not always follow the way of thought of our family, she has never done something to harm us."

Narcissa was prepared for this argument. "My Lord, she seemed to believe that taking my son _was _for the good of the family. She does have a history of mental instability." Two tears ran down her cheeks as she reaffirmed that her baby was in the hands of a madwoman.

He frowned. "One that was caused by your sister, Bellatrix. We overlooked it because your family and ours wished to form an alliance," he reprimanded.

Narcissa swallowed, trying to keep calm. She had never been reminded in this way of what her sister had done to Anna at a young age. It showed that Abraxus was truly angry with her. Even so, she had to stress this point. Otherwise, Anna could tell him everything and he would believe her. "I apologize on my sister's behalf."

He interrupted her, "It is no stain upon yourself. The Black family and the Malfoy family have prospered from their alliance, and you have been an excellent addition to our family."

Narcissa took it as the compliment it was meant to be. "Thank you, sir. I simply brought it up to make a point. Anna wasn't making sense when she spoke to me. She accused me of terrible things, things I would never think of doing. I do not know if this is related to what happened that day or not, but I wanted to remind you of her past. I," she stopped, her tears beginning to get the best of her, "I just want my son back, my baby. Please help me."

"I will speak to her myself," Abraxus answered, taking one of his delicate hands and placing it on hers. "Rest assured that the Malfoy heir will not be harmed." He stood. "You said she was not at her home, but I have other ways of contacting her. I will find her, and Draco."

Narcissa bowed deeply, showing her respect. "Thank you My Lord." If anyone could make her cousin see sense, it was Abraxus. He had the authority to do whatever it took to bring Draco back. She left his office and apparated home. There she let the tears flow. The Dark Lord could wait a bit for his cup. This was important.

O o O o O

Harry couldn't take it anymore. Really, he couldn't. He could practically feel Remus' eyes drilling a hole into the side of his head. _Really_? Did Remus think he couldn't see him? Didn't notice the man attempting, and failing spectacularly, to subtly follow and watch him from a distance? It was just pathetic.

Putting down the Shrooms, he slowly turned to face Remus. To let him know he knew he was there, and that he knew he was looking at him.

O o O

Provo chuckled, "You've been caught."

"Shut up," Remus muttered.

"So, you might as well go apologize or whatever."

Remus sighed, defeated. "Yeah, I suppose you're right," he said as Harry glanced over at Provo.

O o O

Harry fought back a smirk. Hmm, how should he approach this? As an innocent, oblivious child or as an observant, intelligent one?

Well, he couldn't really go back on who he was, so. . . .

Remus came to a stop at the edge of what Harry deemed as Hagrid's property. It was about twenty feet from Hagrid's hut, and fifteen feet away from him. Remus looked anxious, even though he was trying to appear at ease and friendly.

"Oh, hello, Remus," Hagrid said. Evidently, he hadn't noticed him until he was right there.

"Hello, Hagrid, Harry," Remus greeted.

"Why do you think you have to protect me from way over there?" Harry asked while motioning to where Provo still was.

Provo crossed his arms and moved to lean against a tree, but he missed and nearly fell. However, he quickly righted himself and resumed a dignified position. Harry was positive he heard the man say something like, "Damned gravity."

He giggled before continuing his serious discussion with Remus. "I mean, I don't really like having to have a security detail, but since I can't do anything about that, I'd rather avoid being stalked on top of that."

"Er. . ." Remus didn't know what to say to that.

Harry narrowed his eyes, as if studying Remus, before smirking.

"Are you afraid of Shrooms?" he suddenly asked, amused.

"What? No!" Remus said, slightly affronted by the accusation that he was afraid of such harmless and adorable creatures.

"Then why are you standing so far from me and them, then?" Harry asked, quickly bending down to scoop a few Shrooms up.

Remus beamed, taking that as a silent invitation to move forward and pick up a few Shrooms for himself. Harry was more than happy tell him their names (which he had given) and what they liked to do the most (like hop, wiggle, or roll). Remus played along, Hagrid and Provo watching them in amusement.

They played with the Shrooms for a bit longer, Hagrid going into his hut to tuck in some creature Remus and Harry weren't keen on asking about.

Remus cleared his throat, a few Shrooms jumping off his hand onto Harry's. He swallowed, glancing at Harry uncertainly. Harry didn't give any hint to noticing.

"Harry," Remus began.

Harry looked up, knowingly. Remus met his eyes, searching for anything that might reveal what Harry was thinking, or if he held any sort of grudge against him. He found nothing of the sort, but strange understanding and unimaginable patience.

"Yeah?" Harry asked.

"I'm sorry."

Remus was both relieved and worried when Harry didn't show confusion or surprise.

"I know."

Remus blinked, before continuing. "Do you know what I'm sorry for?"

Harry nodded, now inwardly becoming unsure how to proceed. He looked down for a moment, before looking back up. "You're sorry for not believing me. You're afraid that I won't trust you again, and that that will cause you to lose the chance to get to know me."

Remus swallowed thickly. "Yes."

Harry tilted his head, growing very serious. "I forgive you."

O o O o O

Albus looked around the kitchen table at Harry's parent's house in Godric's Hollow. Since the 'future' meeting place for the Order of the Phoenix was in the hands of Narcissa Malfoy, they had decided to meet here. After all, the house belonged to Harry, and they were able to place a fidelus charm on it with Albus as the secret keeper, just as they had for Grimauld Place. Albus and a few of the Hogwarts house elves had spent time clearing it out and rebuilding. When Harry was old enough, if he wished, he could return and live in this place quite comfortably. The disrepair it had fallen to in the former timeline was just wrong, and this was a wrong that Albus had known how to right. The house looked like any other small house in the area, if you were privileged enough to be let in by the secret keeper.

"To those of you who were present for this past war, thank you for returning," he began. He inclined his head to Minerva, Severus, Hagrid, Remus, the Longbottoms, the Weasleys, Alastor, Arabella Figg, Dedalus Diggle, Eliphias Doge, Sturgis Podmore, Emmeline Vance, and Aberforth. Albus made sure to make eye contact with each. "To new members, welcome," he continued, looking at Hestia Jones, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Filius Flitwick, Michael Bear, Nicholas Flamel, Bill Weasley, Jessica Kringle, and Curt Bishop.

Albus had everyone introduce themselves and say what their area of expertise was. For most, it was their job (most were aurors). However, for Jess and Curt, they could not reveal where they worked, not even for the Order. Instead, Jess introduced herself as an expert on chaotic magic, and Curt said he was a gatherer of information and a wards expert.

Originally, he had wanted all of the Unspeakables to be a part of the Order, but Jess had said that would be against their rules. She could speak for them, however, so she came. Curt had been asked separately, since he was the reason Albus and Harry had been able to come to this timeline. Of course, Curt didn't know that.

"I am happy to inform you that both Harry and I are recovering from the attack," Albus said, in order to officially begin. In order to keep appearances, Harry was staying at Hogwarts with the Lovegoods. Neville was also there. Harry had been put out that he had to stay away, but understood, especially since Albus promised to tell him everything of importance.

"Do you know why the vampires attacked you?" Alice Longbottom asked.

Albus thought over what had happened and how to tell it. "I believe they are in some way allied with Voldemort," he answered. That was safe knowledge. "This is substantiated by the fact that they made sure to get Harry's blood, and now Voldemort has claimed a body." That was not so safe knowledge, but it was something they needed to know.

"How do you know that?" Alastor Moody asked.

"Harry's scar was connected to Voldemort, and he saw the whole thing," Albus answered. "After the attack, my body was ravaged by poison. Due to some mystery of magic, I found myself sharing young Harry's body. It was a strange sensation to say the least. However, while I was there, I experienced everything he did. So together, we saw Tom Riddle's resurrection."

"Poor thing," Molly Weasley murmured.

"How do you know it was more than a dream?" Severus asked. "You were under duress."

"I have known for some time that Voldemort was coming back, that he wasn't as dead as we had hoped," Albus answered. "I knew Harry had a connection with him, because the boy had described scenes, accurate scenes that he could not have seen any other way. Trust me when I say that Tom is back."

Most of them nodded, completely trusting him, others simply accepted his explanation for now.

"Do you know where he is?" Alastor Moody asked. Albus could see him planning, planning to storm Voldemort's hiding place.

"Unfortunately, no," Albus answered. "Harry's connection with Tom has been broken, and the last place we knew him to be near was Little Hangleton. What with the aurors investigating that area, I'm sure by now he's someplace else."

"Right, then what do we know?" Dedalus Diggle asked.

"We know Tom has a body again, and is allied with some vampires," Albus answered. "We also know that he has at least some wizards working for him, perhaps former death eaters, perhaps new members. We know he has split his soul into horcruxes," at this, the few members that knew what those were gasped, "and we know some of those have been destroyed."

"What is a horcrux?" Arabella Figg asked.

"It's a soul container," Jess answered. "Until all horcruxes are destroyed, we can't kill Voldemort."

Albus nodded in agreement. Now those who hadn't known before looked worried.

"You're saying that until we find these things, Voldemort is pretty much immortal?" Arthur Weasley asked with a furrowed brow.

"More or less," Albus admitted. "However, we know what the horcruxes are, and as I said before, some have been destroyed. There are just two left, a cup and a locket. We know the location of the locket, and are fairly sure of the location of the cup."

"Well where are they, and why haven't we gone after them already?" Alastor Moody demanded.

"Because the cup is in Gringotts," Albus answered. "The other is in the hands of a prominent member of wizarding society. Someone tried to get a hold of it, but the owner was possessed by the bit of soul in the locket and thwarted the attempt."

"I see," Alastor said, rubbing his chin. "So what have you done about security up in that old castle?"

"Hogwarts' wards were updated recently," Albus answered. "The professors and myself have been looking into wards that specifically guard against vampires, however, just to be safe."

"Constant vigilance," Alastor agreed.

"Um, actually," Bill Weasley spoke up, "I could ask my new employers about them. The goblins specialize in wards. I'm sure for a fee they'd be able to come up with something."

Albus had not yet thought of that, and he was glad Bill had. "I will most definitely ask them, Bill, thank you."

Bill grinned.

"Does anyone else have questions?" Albus asked.

"How is poor Harry doing?" Molly Weasley asked. "What with all of the attacks and sharing a body."

"He's doing well, thank you for asking," Albus answered.

"If there's ever anything we can do for him or you, let us know," Molly said, squeezing Arthur's hand. "We'd be happy to have him over sometime."

"Thank you again," Albus said. He knew Harry missed Ron and Hermione. At least here was a way to connect to the Ron of this timeline without seeming odd. He looked around the table. No one else had any questions. "Well, that is everything I wished to discuss. If there are no further questions, then I believe we should adjourn for the evening. This will allow everyone time to process the information and determine what would be helpful for the future."

With that, refreshments were passed out and people sat and talked or left for their own places.

O o O o O

Finally! A successful venture!

He held Hufflepuff's cup, imbued with a bit of his own soul, in his hand. The Malfoy woman had failed to retrieve the diary, but he let her live after receiving this item. After all, he might need her. Surely she could help by other means, as a sort of penance. After two weeks of studying the cup and various books related to magical injuries, he had determined a cure for his instability. Though he couldn't find any documented case like his, with enough educated guessing, he figured out his problem.

The Potter child. The boy had been protected by his mother, some ancient form of magic that Voldemort didn't quite understand. After that, he had been raised by Albus Dumbledore, leader of light. The brat's magic had been steeped in the Light. In fact, his magic was probably the exact opposite of Voldemort's, save for strength.

Thus when Voldemort used it to bring about a new body, the Light warred with the Dark inherent in his own magic. He had created an imbalance, and it seemed to favor Light. However, he had discovered an obscure little ritual by which he could re-absorb a horcrux.

It had been created by a wizard who wished to atone for his deeds, but Voldemort saw no reason it couldn't work for him. It would, in theory, bring more of his own magic to bear in his body and eradicate the light. In the process, he would lose some of the brat's magic, but retain his body and repair his magic.

That was the theory anyway.

For the most part, Voldemort was anxious to begin right away. The sooner he recovered from any side effects that might occur from this ritual, the sooner he could be back striking fear in the hearts of mudbloods and traitors alike. However, he knew enough to be cautious, which was why he was staring at the horcrux instead of acting. On the other hand, doing nothing could be worse. What if this condition persisted and grew worse?

His decision was made. The ritual must be performed. With that, he apparated to the front of a cave, the cave where he had originally stored the locket horcrux. Voldemort would have cursed the traitor Regulus for removing the locket if it had not worked so well for him. After all, if Regulus hadn't stolen the horcrux and passed it on to Narcissa Malfoy, Voldemort may have waited a lot longer before someone discovered how to bring back his body.

With that happy thought, he killed a small lizard and spread the blood on the hidden doorway. It opened and he walked purposefully into the chamber where the horcrux had once been kept. Standing on the shore and ignoring the inferi infested waters, he pulled out a small piece of chalk. This chalk was specially formulated for rituals; magic flowed easily through it.

He gently set the precious cup down on the rock floor and drew a perfect circle around it. Around the circle, he carefully drew runes, each one representing bringing together what had been torn asunder. Around that, he drew another circle, then began inscribing runes meaning remorse. Nowhere in the description of the ritual had he read that he had to _feel _remorse. After drawing the runic array, he pocketed the chalk and concentrated, gathering his magic.

_"Permissum quis eram scindo fio universes," _he said with authority as he cut his right index finger and traced another rune on the inside of the cup. This rune meant 'to bind.' He kept his cut finger pressed against the rune.

After a few moments, the blood began to bubble around his finger, as the book had said it would. The blood turned black and a wail came from the cup, which was now vibrating. Through the blood, something greenish-black crawled out of the cup and up Voldemort's arm. Voldemort knew this was the piece of his soul which had been sealed inside.

The soul wrapped around his wrist and seeped under his skin. He felt it crawling around inside until it came into contact with his magic.

Pain! Agony! From his very core, he felt as if he were being shattered into millions of pieces. It was worse than Nagini's death had been, worse than making his first horcrux, and nearly as bad as when he had been ripped from his body after the killing curse had rebounded off of the Potter brat. In spite of the pain, he felt his magic rejoicing as the 'voice' that had interfered before was silenced, smothered.

He tried to laugh triumphantly, but all that escaped his mouth was an anguished moan just before he succumbed to unconsciousness.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for all of your reviews, ^^.

Also, the piece Colin was controlling his fiendfyre to was called the Firebird Suite - Danse Infernale, if any of you desired to know exactly what it sounded like.

Coming soon: _Advance  
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	26. Advance

Disclaimer: Really? We don't own this? Are you sure? Darn, must have been a dream then.

A/N: Sorry that it has taken us so long to post this part, but here it is. Hope you all enjoy.

**If original content is a problem, the original books by J.K. Rowling are still available in bookstores.**

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**Part 26: Advance**

Minerva smiled to herself as she made her way down the empty corridor. The term had ended, and summer had just begun. Like every year, it was strange to find the halls empty and quiet when summer came around, but, as loath as she was to admit it, the quiet provided a nice break.

Since the Order of the Phoenix had been reinstated, things had begun moving. Really moving. Minerva couldn't quite put her finger on it, but it was like a storm, swelling in the distance. The search of the horcruxes was ongoing, but they hadn't had much luck, and asking the goblins about the contents in the vaults belonging to the Malfoys was out of the question. It was frustrating, but more than that, it was frightening. How were they supposed to stop Voldemort if he remained essentially immortal?

But none of that could be helped. The only solace was that Voldemort remained quiet. Well, solace might not be the best word. It was good in the obvious way — no one was getting killed or attacked — but it was bad because it made them wonder what he was working on.

Harry and Albus had made a full recovery, which honestly amazed Pomfrey. She had been certain there would be some negative consequences and had told Minerva as much. Pomfrey had spoken to her privately when Harry and Albus had been recovering and had asked her to keep an eye on them, specifically Albus, since his system was not as resilient as a child's due to being magically mature. But she hadn't found anything to be wrong, for which she was grateful. After nearly dying, Albus didn't need to endure anything more.

Walking outside, she went toward the lake, as it was a nice day out, and she wanted to watch the waves. It was so nice to do so in her cat form.

Remus and Provo were currently resting for the day, as it was that time again. Even though Provo had mastered the werewolf transformation and could actually control the wolf, it was a tiring ordeal. Remus and Provo would be up and around in a few days.

Looking across the grounds and to the lake, she spotted a brightly robed figure she quickly identified as Albus. She shook her head. Where did he get such orange robes with moving white swirls? Deciding to see what he was doing at the lake, she continued forward, leaping over high grass in her cat form.

"Come on, Papa! You can't get me from there!" Harry yelled.

Minerva couldn't see Harry. Where was he?

"I think I could," Albus said simply, her cat ears easily catching his voice.

From where she was, she could easily imagine Albus' eyes twinkling.

"Nuh-uh, you promised you wouldn't use your wand today when we played," Harry said.

"So I did," he said, shrugging off his robe and revealing the layers of orange and white cloth beneath as he went into the water.

Minerva blinked at that. Surely Albus wasn't crazy enough to actually let Harry play in the water and then join him? Minerva couldn't believe it, and could only stare as he went deeper into the water, until he was nearly shoulder deep. It was only now that she was able to see Harry, his head and bare shoulders above the water as he happily bobbed up and down. She didn't know Harry could swim. When had he learned? Though, knowing Albus, he had likely conjured a pool in a large empty room within Hogwarts to teach him. She would have to remember to ask.

"Can't get me!" Harry suddenly shouted, splashing Albus before turning and swimming away, further into the lake.

Albus moved forward, lifting his hand and flicking it over to the side purposely before pulling it back toward himself.

A small wave of water in front of Harry rose up, pushing him back and halting his progress.

"Not too far, Harry," Albus warned gently.

Minerva was amazed. It was rare for Albus to actually use his wandless abilities, even though almost everyone knew he was capable of it. Minerva was certain he was actually embarrassed about it for some reason, but she had never been brave enough to question him about it.

"Okay, Papa," Harry answered, unbothered with Albus' warning as he turned around in the water.

Albus hit him with another small wave with a sharp flick of his hand, making Harry giggle as he was forced up with it.

"My turn!" Harry yelled, lifting his hands over his head excitedly.

Albus shifted back, as if bracing himself. If Minerva had not been in her cat form, she would have gasped.

A wave of water rocketed forward, and it would have slammed into Albus if he hadn't swung his arm out to the side to make it careen off up onto the shore. It hadn't been particularly huge, but it was definitely far stronger than she ever would have expected from any wandless child.

"Rotate your hands a bit more, Harry, it'll help the magic churn up the water," Albus advised.

Harry nodded in understanding, before dunking himself under the water.

Minerva straightened up after a moment. Where was he? Surely he should have resurfaced soon after going under like that? But Albus didn't seem worried; instead, he was lowering himself further into the water, as if sneaking up on someone. Soon, all she could see was his white hair. Harry had yet to resurface, and she was frankly getting a little worried. Had Harry been with anyone else, she would have already changed out of her cat form and charged into the water to find him.

"Marko!" Albus suddenly called happily. Minerva could almost swear he was closing his eyes, for he was holding his hands out in front of himself!

What on earth?

"Polo!" Harry yelled, coming up to Albus' right before going under once more.

Albus wandered about, calling Marko every so often. It was nearly thirty seconds later when Harry came up again, splashing Albus and calling 'Polo!' before diving down once again.

Albus was certainly enjoying himself, even causing waves to twirl about with his wandless magic as he tried to catch Harry.

"Marko!"

**Splash!**

A huge wave rose up, swallowing Albus before plummeting down around him, leaving him utterly soaked. Had Albus had his eyes open during any of this, he would have seen a giant tentacle curl above the water before disappearing into the depths. He also would have known most of that wave had not been Harry, but the Giant Squid of Black Lake.

"Polo!"

"Better, Harry!" Albus called approvingly, his eyes still closed, oblivious. "Marko!"

Harry shot out of the water, a tentacle sinking beneath him after throwing Harry up and on top of Albus from behind. Minerva immediately hoped that hadn't hurt Albus' back. He wasn't as young as he used to be, after all.

"Polo!" Harry yelled, laughing wholeheartedly.

Albus opened his eyes, letting Harry remain perched on his back as he twisted around, he and Harry both churning the water around them with their wandless magic. Albus joined Harry in laughing, orbs of water now dancing around them as their magic began to reflect more and more of their emotions.

Minerva sat on her haunches, relaxing as she watched them play in the water. Her heart had been in her throat a few times, but she had managed to calm down and convince herself that no harm would come from their games, and that the Giant Squid was truly gentle. After thirty more minutes, Harry and Albus rose out of the lake and made their way to shore.

"I like the squid," Harry piped up. "Next time, I think we should go in the deep end so he can play with us more without having to reach so far."

"The squid?" Albus asked.

"You didn't think I soaked you all by myself, did you?"

"You've been known to do such things," Albus said with a mischievous smile.

Minerva crouched low in the grass as they got closer, not wanting to be caught at watching them for so long without announcing herself.

Harry protested with a laugh, then, in the way of young children, abruptly changed the subject. "I've started writing a dictionary for us. Now that it's gone, I'll need something to help me remember."

Albus nodded sagely, "I think it's a brilliant idea. You never know, it might come in handy later."

"And we can practice in the greenhouses, that's a great place in the summer," Harry added.

Minerva sagged in relief as they passed her and continued on, though now her curiosity had spiked (curse of being a cat animagus). Harry was writing a dictionary? Why? And a dictionary of what? Could it have something to do with his runes? What was gone? And as for their need to practice. Practice what? And in the greenhouses? Did Pomona know?

She watched them enter Hogwarts before sprinting off to find Pomona.

O o O o O

Abraxus Malfoy, current head of the Malfoy family, entered the ministry. Narcissa's accusations had been . . . concerning . . . to say the least. He was further peeved to realize that he didn't know exactly who Anna worked for. It was an oversight he would be correcting today.

It was unlikely that Anna was at work, since she hadn't been home for three days. However, her boss may know more. He could always call her in by other means, but he didn't want to harm her if at all possible. He passed by the wand check with no problems and took the golden lifts up to the main office.

Since Abraxus had made a point of coming in early enough, there wasn't a line in the administrative offices. He walked over to the first secretary on the left, a young woman who was fresh out of Hogwarts.

"Good morning, Mr, oh, Mr. Malfoy!" the woman exclaimed before standing and awkwardly curtsying. "How can I help you today?"

"I wish to speak with a family member, a Miss Anna Malfoy," Abraxus answered evenly. There were some perks to being well known within the Ministry.

"Oh, of course, of course," the flustered secretary said as she sat back in her chair. She pulled open a drawer and began searching through files. If she was surprised at the lack of a branch to go with the name, she didn't show it. "Malfoy, Malfoy," she muttered. "Ah, here she is!" She pulled out a large folder and began thumbing through it.

Abraxus inconspicuously leaned forward, but despite the size of the file, could see nothing. He wondered what sort of documents she had gathered. Most workers had very small files, at least in his experience.

"Right, if you'd like to wait in our meeting room, I'll send for her," the secretary finally said as she stuffed the full folder back into the drawer. She pulled out a pink piece of parchment and began scribing a memo.

Interesting. Abraxus walked over to the meeting room, a room with a long table and comfortable chairs. He wondered why he hadn't simply been shown to her office. This secretary had always been more than helpful in the past, perhaps wanting to find a place in the Malfoys' good graces. Usually, she would give him a peek at the folder and escort him to the person's office, if it became necessary for him to ask her for information. The secretaries had access to most of the information that went through the Ministry, and having a contact working in this department had often proved invaluable.

Since she hadn't offered him anything other than a waiting room, either the information was barred even from her eyes or there was nothing to show. By the size of the folder, there had been plenty, and if it was in her desk, then she had access.

Why didn't she offer?

Only one answer came to him: the information was monitored and she would lose her job or more if she shared.

Only one branch of the Ministry was paranoid enough to do something like that, but it couldn't be, could it? Quiet, Hufflepuff Anna? Surely she wasn't an Unspeakable?

Abraxus straightened his robes, picking off a minute piece of dust that had settled on his sleeve. He would know soon enough. That is, if she was actually in the Ministry.

After a few moments of waiting, the relation in question entered the room. "Uncle?" she asked hesitantly. Her nervousness was apparent in the way she tapped her fingers against her robe.

Without bestowing the kiss that usually began a Malfoy greeting, he cast several privacy spells and stepped closer, not allowing any hint of fondness cross his face. "Explain yourself," he demanded quietly.

Anna took in a sharp breath, and he could see that she looked a bit frazzled. "Draco's life was in danger," she explained in her usual blunt way.

At the moment, Abraxus employed no mind magic, instead relying on her posture and tone to tell him everything. So far, Anna believed what she was saying, whether or not it was the perfect truth. The next logical question, then, was, "Why?"

"She was being possessed by some kind of dark artifact," Anna answered.

Abraxus could tell by her manner that though she was telling the truth, it was not the whole truth. "And?"

"And," Anna pinched her lip between her fingers, a nervous habit from long ago, "she tried to kill me when I told her to get rid of it. Except that she almost shot Draco."

Abraxus frowned. That did not sound like the mothering Narcissa at all. Ever since Lucius' death she had been protective of her son, even overprotective at times. Now she almost killed him? Time to test Anna's story. "I do not believe you."

Anna sighed. "Well, whether you do or not, Draco's safe, and that's what's important." She looked up into Abraxus' face. "Right?"

Abraxus scanned her face for any hint of a lie, then gazed into her eyes, focusing on her mind. Her mind was well guarded, but he knew how she thought and what to look for. Within a few moments, he had ascertained that though she still wasn't telling him everything, she had told the truth so far. At least, the truth as she saw it.

The question, then, was 'Was she seeing the truth, or a delusion?' The answer was difficult to discern from the cursory glance into her psyche that she was allowing him. Abraxus crossed his arms and frowned. "Have you been on any potions recently," he asked, watching her closely for her reaction.

Anna looked confused, then irritated as she understood. "No, I have not. I have not been assigned any, either."

Abraxus nodded. She was convincing, and from earlier experiences, he knew she would be much less reasonable if she was also delusional. And she wasn't known to lie, either. It was likely (however unlikely it seemed) that her story was true. Even so, he needed more information. "Where is Draco?"

"He's in a safe place," Anna answered. "I couldn't just leave him there, after what happened."

"And how do you expect to keep him safe, while you work?" he demanded. "You cannot simply leave him alone like a cat or dog."

"Oh, I'm, I'm not," she stuttered. It was clear she hadn't thought about the long term. "Not leaving him alone, that is. He's safer than anywhere else, I'm sure."

Abraxus wondered where she was hiding the boy. Perhaps she simply had him in her office. Of course, if she was an Unspeakable, that probably was a very safe place. He mulled over these thoughts for a few seconds, never taking his gaze off her. She squirmed a bit at the prolonged silence, but kept her eyes on his, in the manner of one who knew they were doing the right thing.

If this was a ruse, it was a good one. "Perhaps I could at least speak to him," Abraxus said gently.

Anna thought this over for a few moments, then nodded. "I'll be back shortly," she said with a slight bow, as was proper for a Malfoy. He dismissed her with a wave, and she walked out the door.

He barely had time to sort through his thoughts before she was back. Somewhere in the building, then, he decided. Draco was clutching her hand like he would never let go. Abraxus knelt in order to be at Draco's eye level.

"Grandpapa!" Draco shouted as he let go of Anna and ran into his arms. Abraxus hugged the boy and placed a kiss on his cheek. He looked well, if a bit tired, and even in the brief moment before the boy had hidden his face in his grandfather's cloak, Abraxus had noted the red rims around his eyes.

Abraxus cleared his throat, and Draco looked up. "Tell me, Draco," Abraxus began. "What happened at your home?"

Draco looked up at Anna, and she gave an encouraging nod. "I don't know," he said with a sniffle. "Mummy and Aunt Anna were talking, and I wanted to play with her. Then Mummy was yelling, and I looked around the corner to see." Now the tears were pouring down the boy's face, but he made a big effort to wipe them away and be strong. "Mummy's eyes were all funny and she smiled, but it was a bad smile, like when you smile at Mr. Goyle."

Despite the situation, Abraxus couldn't help but feel proud that his grandson and heir could already tell the difference between "good" and "bad" smiles.

"Then she cast something, and a green light came towards me, but Aunt Anna saved me," Draco continued. "She jumped around a lot and grabbed me, then she carried me out through the floo."

Green light? Surely not Avada Kedavra! The child did not appear possessed or otherwise influenced, and his story matched Anna's. Abraxus made his decision. "Draco, you will come with me, and I will protect you."

Draco opened his mouth as if to protest, then shut it. Good, the boy was learning fast.

Abraxus stood and opened his arms in a belated welcome to the woman whose quick thinking saved his heir. She hugged him and kissed his cheek. "Anna, I will look into this artifact that you mentioned. Nothing like that should taint a Malfoy."

Anna nodded and stepped back. "Yes, my lord," she said, reverting to old habits. "You might also check her vaults. I understand that she might have another. If you bring them to me, I can destroy them."

That caused Abraxus pause. "You know what these artifacts are, don't you?" he questioned sternly.

"Yes," Anna answered. _Horcruxes_ she spoke in his mind, a feat few others could replicate.

Abraxus controlled his facial features, only arching one eyebrow at her mental statement. "Really? I shall keep that in mind, then. Say good-bye to Draco, and I will deal with this. Our family will stand strong, even during interesting times."

O o O o O

Pomona shook her head, recalling the bizarre conversation she had had with Minerva.

Evidently, Albus and Harry were planning on practicing something in the greenhouses. Something they had to be careful about. What Pomona didn't understand was why they hadn't let her know they would be visiting in the conservatory at some point in the near future. Oh well. Albus was the Headmaster. He had free reign of the castle and her grounds. Though, it would have been nice to know when they would be stopping by. What if she was planting fragile plants? Or, Merlin forbid, was removing adult mandrakes and they didn't have earmuffs on?

Well, she would just have to make it quite clear to Albus when she would be doing that so there wouldn't be any misfortunate accidents.

She entered the second greenhouse, going to the shed in the corner to retrieve her gardening gloves when she heard something.

Giggles.

There were echoing giggles coming from somewhere in the glass building.

Curious, she crept around the corner, peeking into a walled-off section where she grew the plants for the older students. And there she found the colorful headmaster and his happy heir.

They were kneeling on the floor, huddled over something, muttering in a way that sounded similar to some sort of shushing, but it wasn't exactly shushing. Hissing?

Coming in a little further, she was able to see what they were leaning over. A little green garden snake.

She blinked, peering closer.

The snake was hissing at them, but not in a threatening way, and they were hissing back. Harry gave a slight giggle occasionally, while Albus' eyes sparkled.

She inhaled sharply, realization dawning on her.

They were speaking parseltongue!

O o O o O

Harry smiled at the kind and informative green snake before them, before he felt a wave of foreboding come from Albus. He looked up at him.

:It seems we have been discovered, Harry: he hissed softly, giving a slight nod toward the entrance.

"Come on in, Pomona," Dumbledore called, a little resigned.

Pomona hesitantly entered, no doubt feeling she was intruding. "Good afternoon, Albus, Harry," she said, giving them each a nod.

Harry glanced down at 'Greenbean', the garden snake, before gently picking him up as he decided how best to handle the situation. "Hi, Professor Sprout! This is Greenbean; he says hi too."

:Go ahead and wave your tail at her, Greenbean: Harry hissed, innocently looking up at Pomona who startled when he used parseltongue.

Greenbean waved his tail at her, causing her eyes to widen.

"Uh, hello, Greenbean," she said with a little wave, before looking to the Headmaster, confused.

"Yes, Pomona, Harry is a parselmouth. He has been teaching me parseltongue for some time now, and we have found most snakes are quite pleasant, particularly ones in your greenhouses," Albus provided.

"Oh, I see," she managed, looking back down to Harry, who had just placed a little kiss on top of the little snake's head. She couldn't help but smile at the sight. It was quite adorable. "Well, just be aware that I have adult mandrakes in the next greenhouse."

"Yes, Pomona, thank you," Albus said. "Before we enter a greenhouse, I do check it over, making sure it is safe for Harry, but thank you for the warning just the same."

Pomona nodded kindly.

"Professor, have you seen where any mice might be? Greenbean is asking," Harry interrupted.

"Um, sorry, Harry, I don't know."

"Oh, ok," Harry said, before relaying the message to Greenbean.

"Well, Pomona, Harry and I will see you at dinner. I believe Harry wants to take Greenbean to Hagrid for a snack," Albus said with a chuckle.

"Of course, Headmaster," Pomona said.

"Bye, Professor," Harry said as Greenbean waved his tail at her again as they left.

O o O o O

Narcissa Malfoy walked out of the Ministry floo and toward the guard station. The night guard, after checking her wand, asked why she had come.

Cosmetic spells and years of training kept the grief from her face. Draco was gone, kidnapped by someone who was seemingly untouchable. Abraxus had not yet contacted her with news of any kind. However, at the moment she had a task to hold her attention, something she was grateful for. Her master had told her that this task was one only she could accomplish.

Narcissa answered with her prepared statement. "I am here to bring dinner to my cousin, who is working late tonight." She held up a covered basket.

The guard nodded and jotted something down in his log. "May I see the contents of your basket?"

"Of course," Narcissa said with a smile. She carefully brought up the basket and set it on his table. She opened the end and watched as his face went completely lax. The artifact inside the basket was one from Lucius' collection. After activation, one look would send anyone into a magical slumber. The sleep would last for a few hours or until she canceled it.

Narcissa smirked and closed the basket and removed her wand from the guard's hands. Easy. She stepped into one of the golden elevators and pressed the button for the lower levels. As the elevator descended, Narcissa tapped herself on the head with her wand, casting a disillusion spell. Now only the very observant would see her.

Upon reaching the ninth level, she walked down the featureless hall and opened the black door at the end. There were no guards. She found a large round room with several unmarked doors. As soon as she closed the door through which she had entered, the room spun. She stood completely still, waiting for it to stop. This, she had expected.

When the room did stop, she spoke. "Hall of Prophecy."

One of the doors opened, and she once again smirked. Apparently even the Unspeakables didn't expect a simple method of entry from unauthorized personnel. Narcissa walked through the open door, wand out. In front of her stretched a huge, dark room, with rows and rows of glass balls on shelves. In passing, she wondered how many of these the Ministry actually had, and how far back they stretched. While she was intrigued, however, her purpose here was clear.

She cast lumos and began scanning the end of the rows, looking at names. Good, they seemed to be in alphabetical order. She started looking for the P's. After several minutes of searching, she found where Potter would be listed. Although she found a few Potters, none of them were Harry. She cursed under her breath. Perhaps under the Dark Lord's name, then?

More minutes of tense searching, then she found the V's. Ah! Here was one for Voldemort. This must be it. She felt something rise in her, a dark feeling that had taken over before. She allowed it to fill her being, knowing from her instructions that this was the only way she would be able to remove the prophecy. As if in a dream, she saw her hand reach out and pick up the orb, then place it in her pocket.

Perfect.

Still in her detached state, she felt her legs move, propelling her toward the entrance. All she had to do was leave. Rows and rows of prophecy passed by, names registering in her mind and fading, not worth remembering. She vaguely wondered if the guard had been discovered. Not to worry, the feeling in charge had everything under control.

O o O o O

Seth sat in his living room, reading a novel about a group of adventurers who found themselves trying to break the back of a secret organization. Some of the characters seemed somehow familiar, but he couldn't quite place them. Anna had apparently worked things out with her family and had gone home, leaving him once again in charge of his mansion. He turned the page, reveling in his free time.

Suddenly, a klaxon went off and red lights started flashing. Seth leaped off the couch, almost falling to the ground but somehow managing to get to his feet. He grabbed his wand and portkeyed to his front door. An alarm like that could only mean one thing: someone had illegally entered the Department of Mysteries. He kept an eye on such things because Jess had told him to. After all, his home was a part of the department.

At the front door, he checked his map. A single dot was moving around the Hall of Prophecy. Interesting. Why would someone break in there when anyone could make a request to see prophecies that pertained to them?

Seth shrugged and headed that direction, trying out several theories in his head. Wanted criminal? Wrong room? Madman? He reached the center room and walked through the already opened door into the Hall. Easy.

Coming his way was a beautiful woman. Now he was really confused. What was someone like her doing breaking in to the Hall of Prophecy? His duty was clear, however, so he shrugged and shouted, "Hey you! Stop!"

The woman, surprisingly, stopped.

"What are you doing here?" Seth questioned, pointing his wand at her.

The woman smirked. "Obtaining a prophecy, of course," she answered. Her voice was unnatural, as if someone was speaking through her.

A shiver ran down Seth's spine. Perhaps this was more than it first appeared. An inner voice that sounded suspiciously like Curt was shouting _cast first and ask questions later! _He whipped up his wand and silently cast petrificus totalitus.

The woman barely moved her wand, and the spell was batted aside. The thought ran through Seth's head that she must at least be a CL 20. Better spells, then. He began a complicated cast of a spell he had prepared himself, dodging out of the way of a spell from the woman.

She was on the move as well, weaving her wand, obviously using the time Seth was giving her to come up with something of her own. Seth could tell by the wand movements that it would be something dark, most likely causing irreparable damage to his bones.

He cast faster, pouring his magic into his movements, focusing his intent. When the spell was ready, he pushed it toward her, forcing it out with a burst of magic.

She smirked and cast herself, stepping out of the way of his attack as he sidestepped hers. Seth tracked her spell with one part of his awareness while casting several freezing charms at the floor below his opponent. The spell she had cast flew into one of the shelves, shattering several globes. He switched his focus back entirely to her as he watched the spell she had sidestepped turn around.

_This is why all my spells have trackers, _he thought as she suddenly noticed the spell coming at her from behind. She once again leapt out of the way.

And collapsed as she hit a patch of ice.

Seth grinned and started running forward as his spell hit her. She stiffened in total incapacitation. A modification of the binding spell, this one not only had trackers on it, but attacked the mind. Once it hit, it immediately paralyzed the person's mind. The person was not only held still, but couldn't even think of moving. No one had ever been able to break through. Granted, he hadn't cast it on very many people, but those test subjects had been mentally strong people, so he felt that it was proven to work. Just to be cautious, however, he still held his wand out.

She was still smirking. Something seemed off about that. Seth reached the woman and bent over, hoping to identify her. A basket lay on its side, her hand on the lid. It looked like an ordinary picnic basket. Seth raised his wand to cast an identification spell when suddenly, the woman opened the lid.

"What the…!" was all Seth got out before everything went dark.

O o O o O

The horcrux around Narcissa's neck was pleased. With Narcissa's mind paralyzed by this Ministry fool, he was able to take full control of the body. He picked up the basket, careful to look away as he closed the lid. Let the fool be found here in the morning.

O o O o O

Jess watched as the Hunters thoroughly questioned Seth. She had been called here when Seth was discovered asleep in the Hall of Prophecy. Accusing an Unspeakable with any sort of treason was something the Ministry was rarely called to do, since the Unspeakables were charged with getting to the bottom of treason. That and the research that the other branches did was reason enough to give any auror pause.

Which was, of course, why the Hunters were interrogating. In the rare instance that there was a major disturbance or hint of wrongdoing by the Unspeakables, they were called in.

Seth had been answering questions for over an hour, and she wondered when they would let him go. Jess, as his supervisor, had been allowed to examine the memory he provided and listen to his answers. She recognized the woman as Narcissa Malfoy, and after watching his own memory, Seth concurred. It was unfortunate that Seth didn't see which aisle she had come from; otherwise they might be able to guess what she had been looking for. It might take quite awhile before they discovered what prophecy she had taken. It had already been determined that it wasn't one filed under her name.

The small contingent of aurors that worked night shift had been sent to find Narcissa, but her house was empty. Jess was sure that by the morning, there would be a full blown search of relatives' homes and any other place in which she might hide.

Jess had no doubt that this had something to do with the horcrux Narcissa was wearing around her neck. Seth had told the Hunters that Narcissa was in possession of a horcrux, or more likely, the horcrux was in possession of her. There was no reason to withhold this information. Jess was also fairly sure that the prophecy the woman had been looking for was the one about Harry Potter and Voldemort.

The Hunters left the interrogation room after telling Seth he was free to go. Jess joined him at the door.

He was angry.

Jess could see his magic swirling agitatedly around his core, looking for something to lash out at.

"I'm going to check out the Hall," Jess stated. "Do you want to come?"

"Fine," Seth answered shortly.

They walked in silence for a bit, then suddenly, Seth spoke. "She broke through my mind holding spell," he said forcefully.

Jess's eyebrows rose at this. Seth was the best at creating new spells. For someone to break through something of his, something designed to specifically hold down the strong, was unheard of. At his own declaration, she saw his magic ripple, begging to be freed. That was not something that needed to happen here. "Then the horcrux must be fully controlling her."

"I hadn't noticed," Seth said sarcastically.

Jess ignored the sarcasm, knowing he needed to vent. They had reached the Hall. One of the Hunters nodded at them as they entered, logging their presence on a piece of parchment. She explained her reasoning as they moved toward the P's, conjuring a pair of sunglasses to keep from being blinded by the concentrated magic of the prophecies. "If you paralyzed her mind, then something else must be controlling her. It's not good that the horcrux has that much control."

"I figured it was something like that," Seth conceded. "It'll only last a few hours though, then she'll be awake. Are we checking the Potter prophecy?"

Jess nodded and they both began scrutinizing the shelves. The prophecy would have been catalogued before Harry's adoption, and prophecies weren't moved after a name change. After some time of searching, Seth shook his head. "I don't see it. Not even a blank space."

Jess crossed her arms thoughtfully. The only way a spot wouldn't have been left behind was if the prophecy was removed legally. However, there was one more place to check. "I'm pretty sure they would have put it here, but it might be under Voldemort," Jess suggested with a shrug.

She and Seth walked down to the V's and immediately noticed the blank space. They turned to look at each other. "This must be where the new prophecy Professor McGonagall reported at the last meeting was placed," Jess said.

Seth nodded. "I guess if the horcrux was possessing her, it'd be the one to take it, and since it's a part of Voldemort…" he trailed off before resuming, "It makes sense, I guess."

O o O o O

_ "It will happen three strikes past midnight. The Dark Lord will rise again with the aid of his other and will seek his others to strengthen further. He will then hunt the one he marked and the world will see true chaos. At three strikes past . . . the Dark Lord will rise."_

The seer faded back into the orb, her disembodied voice still echoing around the room.

Voldemort couldn't help but have conflicting feelings of what this signified.

This was not the prophesy Severus had given him ten years ago. This one was clearly different. Perhaps the old one had become obsolete? Although, that didn't seem to make much sense. Perhaps the old man had done something with it? But even as the Head of the Wizengamot, he shouldn't have that much influence. Prophecies were under Unspeakable jurisdiction after all.

Well, no matter, this prophecy definitely held promise.

He smiled.

'His other' was most likely his necklace horcrux controlling Narcissa, which led to his resurrection. And he had begun seeking his others to strengthen himself. Perhaps if he were to get a hold of the diadem, he could, as the prophecy said, strengthen further? But that would mean going into Hogwarts. He supposed he could reabsorb the necklace, but Narcissa was just too helpful at the moment, even though she was now a wanted criminal.

So, what to do?

He would certainly hunt the blasted brat, and would happily show the world true chaos, but how to go about it?

He needed to prepare. He needed a plan. He needed time.

Well, time he had. Despite what people believed, he could be very patient when he wished to be, and he wished it now. He would strike when the time was right, he would move when the brat and the old man least expected it.

O o O o O

A/N: Once again, thanks for all of your reviews, ^^.


	27. Dragon

**Part 27: Dragon**

The last two years had been quiet for the Wizarding World, considering everything. Voldemort had remained out of the public eye and his existence was mere rumors now. The vampire assassins had disappeared into the shadows and the Wizarding World was living peacefully. Dumbledore continued his work as Headmaster, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and, of course, as leader of the Order of the Phoenix.

Narcissa was a wanted criminal, and Draco was being raised by the Head of the Malfoy family, Abraxus Malfoy. He was shaping up to be a real prince with the maturity and humility quite becoming of a young prodigious heir. Under Abraxus, the boy was quickly becoming a young man — a young man worthy of being his heir . . . a young man Lucius should have been. Abraxus had taken to bringing Draco along to parties at the Ministry and soon became acquainted with the Dumbledores, so much so that Draco occasionally played with Harry.

At first, things were a little strained between the two family heads, especially as it was Harry who had killed his son (Lucius). However, Abraxus had known for a long time his son had gone beyond the point of any honorable return, and he held no real grudge against the boy who had rid them of Voldemort (temporally) and many death eaters. And so, things quickly eased between the Leader of Light and himself, as they both saw the benefits of their silent alliance.

Another contributor to this alliance had been Anna Malfoy. Though she had not said much about the events leading up to her rescue of Draco, she had informed Abraxus of the part Dumbledore had played in saving Draco's life and alerting them to the Horcrux endangering what was left of his family.

It was not quite a life debt, but it had brought about a quiet understanding. Dumbledore was not attempting to eradicate non-Light families, but prevent the stain of the previous generation from spreading into the next, and Abraxus was more than willing to assist in that endeavor.

He did not want Draco to follow in the steps of his late son. He wanted him to be an heir worthy of the name Malfoy. He wanted the boy to become a man to be reckoned with, a family Head rich with honor, rather than trenched in corruption. He wanted to be able to die knowing the Malfoy name would rise above the mark Lucius had made and become a name his descendants would be proud to hold close and declare.

Remus Lupin and Elric Provo remained in England and began working with the werewolf community when it was clear the Dumbledores were no longer right in the crosshairs of the vampires or of Voldemort. In two years, they had begun training willing werewolves to control the beast within, and many were happy to devote themselves to Remus' ideals. However, not all was sunshine and daisies. Fenrir Greyback had been doing some recruiting of his own, dividing the werewolf community in two. Remus was sure, as he had told Dumbledore, that it would only be a matter of time before Voldemort used Greyback and his number in the brewing war. Remus hoped the brethren he had been able to befriend would keep their word and stick by him whenever the war began.

As for the Unspeakables, they had not been idle either.

Along with side projects, Seth and David had just finished creating a horcrux locator spell, as the location of the locket and the cup were still unknown to them (they had yet to discover the fate of the cup). Seth had named the project 'Seek and Destroy,' and they hoped the specialized locator spell would enable them to finish the job of destroying the horcruxes faster. With the destroyed horcruxes in their possession, they had been able to take the residual magic still on the items and tune the spell appropriately. It was really a work of genius and Seth had spent many nights doing the spell's arithmancy calculations, though David's luck had certainly helped prevent disaster.

Rita Skeeter continued writing articles for the Prophet, keeping on the lookout for anything that would indicate Voldemort making a move. Things were still quiet where she stood.

Curt and Colin were still hard at work studying the sword left behind by the vampire in the first assassination attempt. They hadn't been able to perfectly replicate the sword's characteristics, but they were closer to fully understanding the properties and Colin was more than happy to use the sword to test the limit of its abilities. With their research, they hoped to design a counter or at least something they could erect to decrease the strength of similar properties in the future. Curt was confident a ward, much like anti-apparation wards, specifically designed against such weapons could be created and used by them in the near future.

As for Anna and Jess, they were focused on the Dumbledores. Jess primarily worked on helping them develop and further control their chaotic magic, but also assisted Anna and Dumbledore in training Harry to become an animagus. They had yet to determine his animal, but he was well on his way to becoming the 'youngest' animagus in history.

Don Kringle, through many-_many_ months of careful intelligence gathering and occasionally slipping the Dark Lord 'vital' information, entered the inner circle and became one of Voldemort's lieutenants. It had been slow going, as it was clear the Dark Lord was exercising extreme patience and carefully maneuvering his followers to remain undetected by the Ministry, but Don had done it. He had convinced the Dark Lord he had a faithful spy within the heart of the Unspeakables and a diehard assassin at his beck and call. Don was really looking forward to throwing the truth in Riddle's face.

O

"He's a genius," Fredrick said, leaning closer to them over the table. He was in the library with five other Gryffindors and a few Ravenclaws.

"Of course he is, he's the Headmaster's kid," a Ravenclaw agreed, glancing at Harry who was hunkered over a table at the far corner, lost in his own little world, crayons all over the table.

"Shh, he'll hear you," another boy whispered.

"Well, are you going to ask him?" Fredrick asked the second year Ravenclaw, Kevin.

"It's not like he would know even if I did ask him."

"You'd be surprised. You know, through the years I've been here, he's helped students who've asked, even fifth years with their OWLs and seventh years with their NEWTs," Fredrick continued.

"_Wicked_," two boys chorused. They were twins and were first year Gryffindors.

"I wonder if—"

"He knows of any—"

"Secret passages."

"You know, it's sort of confusing to see you two do that," Fredrick said, amused with the two younger boys.

"You'll get used to it," they chorused again before turning to Kevin, expectantly.

Kevin sighed and rose from the table. "Fine, I'll ask him. I don't know what you expect to get out of this by trying to stump him, but whatever."

Kevin left the table, and, as he did so, Fredrick leaned toward the twins and whispered, "Watch this."

O o O

Kevin couldn't believe he was doing this. Sure, the kid wasn't too much younger than him, just three years, but still — he was nine.

Some of the claims Fredrick made about him were just too extraordinary, even when one took into account that the Headmaster was his Pops, albeit adopted. And sure, he had grown up in the school for most of his life, but that didn't mean he was as knowledgeable as a professor. Kevin was a muggleborn and had only been in the Wizarding World for a year, and ever since he had learned about Harry Potter, now known as Harry James Wulfric Potter Dumbledore — what a name, he had been struck by how mystified the public was with the kid, as well as with the Headmaster.

It was the Dumbledores this and the Dumbledores that. It really made him wonder what sort of world he had entered into.

Quietly, he approached the table where Harry Dumbledore was sitting. Kevin wondered if this table was specifically placed there to accommodate the son of the Headmaster. It seemed a little lower than the other tables so it would fit his smaller size. Coming to the table, he found it covered in parchment and crayons. There were many colorful scribbles of weird characters Kevin had never seen before on the parchment. It was rather dizzying. What was the boy working on?

Harry didn't look up at him when he approached, but Kevin got the feeling he knew he was there. He was probably used to this attention and had learned to ignore it.

What had he wanted to ask again? Oh yes, he remembered now.

"Um, Harry?" Kevin asked.

Harry looked up from his work, his bright green eyes taking Kevin by surprise.

"Yeah?"

"I was wondering if you could help me?"

Harry looked amused. "Sure, what do you need?"

Kevin shuffled his feet a bit, suddenly realizing how ridiculous he appeared. Well, he couldn't go back now.

"Well, I heard some older years arguing about something, and, seeing as you've been here longer than all of us, thought you might know."

Harry waited patiently for Kevin to continue until he realized he needed to prompt him. "Okay, and?"

"It has to do with spells and what type they are. Some of them were saying that a spell can only be one type, while the others were saying there are spells that are a combination."

"Like a transfiguration and a charm or a hex?" Harry asked.

Kevin nodded. "I was just wondering what you know about it."

"Well, it depends on how you want to define them, but in the end many spells can be classified as a combination."

"Okay, like what?"

"Well, take Engorgio. It's classified as a Charm, but if you think about it, it could be a specialized and advanced kind of transfiguration. Some researchers are convinced it's a combo of 'charm' magic (for stabilization) and a transfiguration. Personally, I think it's solely a charm, but the combo is possible," Harry said with a shrug. "As for hexes, most of them are really just charms or transfigurations used in a mean way, but there are cases where true combinations exist, like the Bat-Bogey Hex. That's a very impressive combo-spell. It transforms your target's bogey's into bats -_and_- animates them to attack — a perfect balance of Charm and Transfiguration work."

Kevin blinked as Harry leaned toward him.

"So, why exactly have you come to talk with me? I know it's not really to get information about spell theory," Harry finished.

"Er . . . I was just . . ." Kevin began awkwardly.

"Curious?" Harry asked.

Kevin nodded, embarrassed.

"It's alright, you're not the first, and won't be the last," Harry said gently as he looked back down at his work, deciding Kevin had experienced enough embarrassment.

O

"Well, Harry, are you ready?" Jess asked, holding out a potion for him to take.

They were at the pit, the center of RDHPIT. For the past several months, they had been focusing on helping Harry become an animagus. They had finally felt confident Harry's mental discipline was strong enough to undergo the transformation and Jess had alluded to Harry needing a great deal of it to succeed in transforming into his animal.

She admitted to suspecting his animagus was fairly large and required a bit more focus to carry it out.

Harry wondered if it was an elephant or even something like a rhino. Though it wouldn't be conductive to stealth, it would be in combat. He wouldn't mind something like that.

"I'm ready," Harry said, taking the vial and glancing to Albus before swigging it down.

"Alright, now just relax as I cast the spell," Jess said, waving her wand over him as she circled him.

Harry felt the spell come over him as the potion began to take effect alongside the cast magic. His body suddenly felt numb and heavy, before a twisting feeling overcame him.

It was working.

A pressure began to build at his shoulder blades, his arms and legs morphing as he felt himself lean forward and rest on his stomach. His head and neck became tight as his entire body continued to change, and then it was done.

He lifted his head, suddenly finding that he was at eye level with Jess, Anna, and his Papa.

What was he?

He looked down at himself, finding his arms (front legs) and hands (now claws) covered in scales. He stood up and twisted around, finding a tail and a pair of large, dark red wings.

"Look here, Harry," Anna said, conjuring a large mirror for him.

Harry turned and gave a slight jump at the sight.

He was a dragon! His scales were copper and red, and his ridge-markings were black, along with his short horns. He wasn't all that big (for a dragon), and was about the size of Buckbeak.

"A Peruvian Vipertooth, the smallest species of dragon," Anna said, turning to Jess. "You knew all along, didn't you?"

"I didn't know that exactly," Jess answered. "But I did know that with his exceptionally strong core and penchant for wild magic that it would be a magical animal."

"Extraordinary," Dumbledore muttered, patting Harry's scaly shoulder in front of his wing.

Harry giggled, but it came out as a gruffy gurgle.

"So, youngest animagus ever, shall we get you back to human form and begin the real work?" Jess asked.

Harry nodded, eager to continue.

O

Narcissa glared at the new recruit. He quickly knelt, bowing his head. She wished he had stayed standing and defiant, giving her a reason to hex him. Instead, she curtly nodded and walked past him, clenching her jaw. Every carefully laid plan had gone to pieces. Two years ago, Abraxus Malfoy had informed her that her son was in his care and not leaving. After all, she was being hunted for invading the Ministry of Magic. He used his power and her status as a fugitive to take control of her vaults at Gringotts.

A dark voice whispered that she was better without Draco now, that she could follow her modified plans without him in the way. It was true that she didn't have to worry about him being in this place with these…people and…creatures. However, she wanted her baby. Needed him. He was the only reason she was doing all of this, to make his future secure as the next leader of the Wizarding World.

If she had to wipe out the entire Malfoy family to bring her son back, she would. If she had to destroy the world to bring him back, she would.

"All in time," the dark voice whispered. "Patience." She would wait.

O

Voldemort sat at the head of an ornate mahogany table, Narcissa Malfoy at his right hand. Bartimus Crouch Jr. was on his left. Twelve other masked, human followers sat on both sides, and five vampires sat in places of honor, their leader exactly opposite Voldemort's position. Fenrir Greyback and two of his faction stood against the wall, refusing the human comfort of chairs.

Voldemort drew in a deep breath. This was what it was all about. Power. Exterminating mudbloods was the means to that end. Once the trash was removed from the earth, Voldemort's vision for the Wizarding World could succeed. There would be room for the pure to breed and grow, with no stupid statute of secrecy to get in the way. Of course, some mudbloods might be retained as slaves, on the same level as house elves, perhaps. That is, if he was in a generous mood.

Voldemort suppressed his good mood. It wouldn't do for his minions to see him grinning from ear to ear. No, not at all. He cleared his throat, even though no one was talking. He had their complete attention.

"My followers, today is an important day," he began in a level voice. "Today is the day we, the leaders of our future world, will begin our rise to power."

All nodded at his proclamation, but no one cheered or spoke. They knew the time for that would come.

"For two years we have been laying plans, forging alliances, and gaining confidences," Voldemort continued. "Waiting in the shadows. Some have called us cowards." Here he eyed each being, mentally daring them to repeat that sentiment. They would be dead before they finished the thought. "But we have been biding our time. Today, we celebrate the new undersecretary, Bartimus Crouch Jr." He gestured to the unmasked man next to him, who rose and bowed, then resumed his seat.

"With this position secured in the Ministry, others can be gained. We already have a few tentative allies, who only need a slight push to fall in with us." At this, Voldemort smirked. Having Narcissa by his side, someone who kept up to date with others' dirty secrets, was invaluable in this task. Of course, she wasn't able to go out in public without a disguise, but she knew enough long term secrets to make her useful.

"Thus, the time to act is now," Voldemort said. "Each of you has submitted candidates to fill our ranks, and I want you to start working on those people, luring them to the Cause. Eventually all will follow, follow or die." He paused and again intently gazed at each person. "You are my inner circle, my trusted ones. Through you, I will conquer." He pulled his gaze back and surveyed the group as a whole. "Now, I have a few items of business to bring forth. First, the prisoners in Azkaban. . . ."

O

Arthur Weasley finished off another cracker loaded with his wife's wonderful spinach dip. He glanced at her and winked. Molly smiled back and patted his hand, then turned her attention back to Albus. Arthur squeezed her hand, and then refocused on the meeting.

Albus had been calling Order meetings once a month since he had last been attacked by the vampires, two years ago. A mix of old and new members, the Order had been collectively puzzling over the vampires' motives, as well as the rise of Voldemort.

So far, there had been nothing in the papers about Voldemort's return. Unless one counted the Quibbler, of course, but no one really did. There had been no attacks, no mysterious deaths, not even a harsh word that could be traced back to the self proclaimed Dark Lord. And it wasn't that Arthur doubted what Albus said, it was that there was no proof.

Although, he supposed it was fine to be prepared in case such a thing happened. If Voldemort did come back, Arthur wanted to be ready. As for the vampires, they had been a real threat. However, there had been no more attacks after the failed second attempt.

Because of this, Arthur and his wife thought of these meetings more as social gatherings. They listened to any items that were brought up, of course, but generally they used it as a time to get away from the children and share Molly's cooking with friends. Mostly friends, anyway. There were a few who were aloof, like the expert on chaotic magic and Severus Snape. But really, they were among friends.

Albus didn't seem to mind that more chatting was done about the price of beef or bestselling novels than current dark wizard affairs. In fact, he seemed to encourage this sort of talk. However, he always brought it back around to Voldemort or vampires.

Tonight, though, Albus pushed them to serious discussion very soon after everyone had arrived. "Today, a new undersecretary to the minister was selected," he began. "Bartimus Crouch Jr." He paused as if expecting a response. Remus Lupin coughed, but that was all.

Arthur wasn't sure why this was very important. Crouch Jr. was known simply because he was the son of Crouch Sr. An average wizard, perhaps, though probably attuned to detail if he managed to snare the undersecretary job.

"It is not publicly known," Albus continued, "but he was a part of the Death Eaters. He hadn't yet taken the mark*, which is why he wasn't put in Azkaban when he joined the ministry, but he was an active member at that time and, I believe, now."

Several people started murmuring, while Alastor Moody demanded, "How do you know this, Albus?"

"I had some sources inside Voldemort's camp," Albus answered, with a glance at Severus Snape.

Severus didn't respond except to raise one eyebrow in the slightest of motions.

Alastor cursed.

"Language, please," Molly said, though with less venom than if one of their children had said it. Arthur smiled, despite the grave nature of the news. He again squeezed her hand.

"If he never took the mark, then that might mean he has rethought that decision," Alice Longbottom suggested hopefully. "After all, there are questionable people in every job in every area who were never part of Voldemort's group. And there were full members who realized their errors after the fact." She also glanced at Severus.

Albus seemed to ponder this, rubbing his beard as he did so. "While that is certainly true," he answered, "it would do us well to watch this young man. It could be that he is atoning for past mistakes, but it could just as easily be that he is a plant by Voldemort."

"Surely the Ministry has steps in place to weed people like that out," Arthur's oldest son, Bill, said.

"They of course check for dark marks," Frank Longbottom answered. "But the current laws only allow so much. If we were to ask about every belief that a Ministry worker holds, that would be a breach of privacy. If someone were to openly support a dark lord, however, that would be another matter."

Even though it seemed a bit far-fetched that the improved security on the Ministry would allow a former death eater, Arthur determined to watch the new Undersecretary. Being in a minor department did have its benefits when it came to going unnoticed, after all.

O

Severus Snape waited for Albus Dumbledore after the Order meeting. He had followed the implication that he was the spy who brought Albus his information while in front of others, but now he had questions. He knew Albus would not have used him as an excuse if he didn't absolutely have to.

"Severus, my boy, how are you tonight?" Albus asked after the others had gone. His eyes twinkled as if he knew exactly why Severus had stayed behind.

"Well enough," Severus answered shortly. "Perhaps you would like to share with me any more information I have supposedly given you?"

"Yes, I thought you might have some questions," Albus said in that maddeningly way he had of avoiding the issue.

Severus arched one eyebrow, waiting for the answer to the question he had already asked.

"Lemon drop?" Albus asked, his infernal eyes twinkling even more brightly.

"No," Severus answered curtly, folding his arms.

Albus chuckled and popped one of his famous candies into his own mouth. "Severus, the manner in which I acquired this information is not one that I can share, even with the Order. By implying that you brought it to me, I was able to focus people on the information itself, rather than the source."

"I understand _why_ you did it," Severus answered with a great deal of patience. "I am merely trying to determine if there is other information that I am supposed to have given you." _And where you got this bit, you tricky old man._

"Not that I am aware of at the moment, my boy," Albus answered. "However, that may change in the future." He paused, and his face grew grave. "If I could share with you what you truly want to know, I would. Alas, it is not a secret you need to be burdened with keeping."

Severus knew the old man was sincere. Very well, there were other ways he could pursue this. "If that is the case, Albus, then I will leave you be. I have several cauldrons awaiting my return." He threw floo powder into the fireplace and with a last look at Albus announced his home.

"Goodbye, Severus," Albus said softly as Snape stepped into the Floo.

O

Jess Kringle settled in to her desk after the Order meeting. Her communication ring vibrated, and she twisted it, allowing a connection to form. Unspeakable Seth had come up with the unusual form of communication some time ago, inspired by various muggle shows as well as something called a "walkie-talkie."

Ah, it was her husband. The Death Eater meeting must have ended. "Don, how is everything?" Jess asked.

"So, funny story, true story," Don began.

"Yes?" Jess asked. She knew whatever news he had would be big, and most likely bad.

"Apparently, Bartimus Crouch Jr is working with Voldemort and the new 'Master.'" Don explained. "He's just been appointed Undersecretary to the Minister. And we've just sent vampires to attack Azkaban and rescue prisoners. So everything's well on its way to destruction. I don't have any more time, baby. We'll talk later."

Jess said good-bye as Don cut the connection. That was more than bad, that was disturbing. She picked up a memo form and wrote out a memo to Amelia Bones, head of the DMLE, warning her of the attack. She checked the box marked 'URGENT' and sent it on its way. That needed to be dealt with now. The other information, she could think on for a bit. At the very least, she needed to let Albus know that his fears about Crouch Jr were correct.

O

The dementor floated along the parapet, absently absorbing the bland soul energy from the prisoners. Most dementors had grown lazy and fat on the weak fare, but this one was constantly on the lookout. If the barriers that kept them contained were removed, this one would search for new, spicier souls. This one would enjoy the hunt, and the flavors of fresh souls that had never before been fed on.

Consequently, this one felt it when outsiders approached. They were far beyond the barrier, enticing but unavailable. The dementor moved closer in case they approached the barrier itself. As it moved, it felt the energy of the intruders more clearly. They were not human.

Soon the dementor was at the edge of the barrier, sensing what was occurring outside. The non-humans were not soul feeders, but neither were they the soul carriers that made up the dementor diet. They had the feel of both living and non-living. Such an intriguing puzzle had never before presented itself to this one.

And they were hunting. This one felt the sudden disappearance of the few soul-carrying guards which patrolled outside the dementors' barrier. Though their souls had not been consumed by the new creatures, they were torn from the body, just the same. The creatures then did something the dementor had never before sensed. They placed a curse on the body, forcing the soul back inside and lashing it in with magic. As they buried the bodies, the dementor could sense the trapped souls slowly rotting.

The creatures then came toward the barrier, floating as part of the wind. The dementor felt them seep through, and eagerly tried to feed on them. Any new food, even if enigmatic, was welcomed in this tasteless place.

What it received in return was disgusting. A soul, if it could be called that, rotten, far more rotten than those buried outside. The dementor ceased feeding and moved aside, letting the mist that the creature had approached as congeal into three human-sized beings. Even the dull fare it normally endured was better.

One of the beings looked at the dementor, and this one felt true pleasure from it. Now it was even more interested. No one looked at a dementor with happiness, because happiness was the first emotion to be consumed.

"You are free, soul-feeders, provided you come to our aid when we call," the being said in the strange tongue of the humans. "There is a village not too far away to the east which will feed you."

Freedom. The dementors readily agreed. At that, the beings worked to remove the barrier, releasing those who had been trapped for so long. The dementors fled, hungry for better souls. However, curious, this one took one last moment to see what the beings did with the dementors' former food source.

Magic flowed over the being, and its voice rang out over the whole prison. "We give you one choice! Serve the Dark Lord Voldemort, or die!"

A human, yet not quite a human, entered through what had formerly been the barrier. "My followers! Swear your loyalty and I will remove you from this wretched place."

As many came forward, the one who was not quite human branded them with a magical form of servitude. Those who refused were killed, and the other beings cursed and sealed their souls inside the bodies, just as they had for the guards.

Curiosity satisfied, the dementor left the dismal prison, relishing the thought of the hunt.

O

*In the HP Wiki, it says that Barty Crouch Jr took the mark. We're saying that he was going to, but didn't get the chance before Voldemort was defeated for purposes of this fic.

A/N: We know, it's been well over a year and a half, but being at practically opposite ends of the country has made it very hard to collaborate, even with the internet :P

We are very close to the end of the story and both want to finish it, so it will be done, eventually. We both apologize for making you all wait such a ridiculously long time, but please remember we are writing this for free and for our own enjoyment just as much as for the enjoyment of others. Thanks for sticking with us, and with any luck, the next part will be finished sooner than this one was ;)


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